


Let’s call it “Compromised Decision Making”

by LackadaisicalLass



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Darcy Lewis is the fandom bicycle and I love it, Darcy's unique problem solving, F/F, F/M, Fingering, Humor, Loki is a fucking tease, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Romance, SHIP DARCY LEWIS WITH ALL THE THINGS, Sex, Smut, Teasing, Wall Sex, Who invited feelings?, is that a plot?, or window sex?, pretty much porn, what am i even doing?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2020-09-30 21:31:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 57,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20453870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LackadaisicalLass/pseuds/LackadaisicalLass
Summary: The tags pretty much cover it I think. Darcy is desperate for a distraction, Loki can be a generous god when he wants to be...also kinda an asshole. A surprise to absolutely no one.Edit:Righty-o so this started as a smutty oneshot. Now, like an unsupervised Petri dish, it has grown into something beyond recognition. A strange little beasty, in many ways still true to its smutty roots, but hardy what it was originally intended to be...I don’t know where I’m g o i n g   w i t h    t  h  i  s . .   .    .     .





	1. it started with a oneshot

On the whole, Darcy considered herself a reasonably well-adjusted person given recent events (ie: cataclysmic alien invasions). Like anyone, she had her coping mechanisms. Quiet evenings with Ben and Jerry. Binging the best episodes of the great British baking show on Netflix, there was something so delightfully wholesome about the supportive brits always encouraging their competitors. She avoided alcohol after one particularly disastrous night in London. All in all, her coping mechanisms were quite normal, all except for one... though it could be perfectly normal, just not widely accepted or spoken about. People can be repressed and judgey like that. 

When things got bad. Defcon-one approaching critical meltdown bad. When all else failed or was out of reach. She turned to more physical means of distraction. Something about sex always cleared the mind. 

Darcy found it remarkably effective to fuck her problems away. 

Healthy? Perhaps not. The jury was still out. After all, she was a grown-ass adult, capable of making decisions, and besides, who could it hurt? As far she was concerned, a one night stand between consenting adults was nothing to be ashamed of. Her motivations might be a bit abnormal, but there were worse reasons to have sex. A lot of worse reasons. 

~~~

By all accounts, it was her mistake. Darcy knew better than to turn on the news mid-mission. Always better to wait for news directly from the source, rather than witness the most horrifying cell phone footage the news could get their mitts on. Everything seems more dramatic in grainy shaky-cam video. She realized her mistake too late, just in time to see Thor swatted out of the sky, hitting the ground hard enough to shatter stone. The video cut out before he got up, because he did get up, he always got up, he was freaking Thor! He was fine. She told herself he was going to be fine, but where was Jane? 

Thor and the good doctor had gone to Svalbard to collect data on a meteorological event. The rest of the avengers had headed in a similar direction determined to find and flush out a number of suspected hydra cells. Darcy had stayed at the tower to avoid freezing her ass off. Besides, she was far better at organizing data, than interpreting or collecting it, and she was a bona fide goddess of spreadsheets and tasers, not a fighter.

She was questioning that decision now, because Where. Was. JANE? For all her many gifts and achievements, the woman still had bird bones and abysmal survival instincts! 

Darcy couldn’t stay still. She had been pacing the upper floors of the tower for the past four hours. She could feel her worst anxieties snowballing. One compounding the other again and again until all her worst fears were not just possible, they were inevitable. She felt like there was an enormous fist closing around her rib cage. She could feel her throat tightening and pressure building behind her eyes. It took every fiber of her being to look normal, like she wasn’t on the verge of losing her goddamn mind. She had walked to the communal kitchen before realizing her hands were shaking too badly to pour herself a glass of water. She doubted she could even keep it down if she tried, with her stomach tied in knots. 

She pressed her hands against the cool marble of the countertop, forcing them to be still. She lowered her head between them, letting her upper body come to rest on the counter. She tried to let the cool surface ground her, bring her back to reality, but it wasn’t enough. She rolled her head pressing her cheek against the marble. The bridge of her glasses pressing awkwardly against the side of her nose. When she opened her eyes, she noticed Loki sprawled across one of the couches in the common room. Desperation overrode sanity, before she fully realized the words had left her mouth. 

“Hey Loki, you busy?”

He turned, gaze disinterested, as he took in her rather bizarre posture. “Not particularly.”

“Wanna fuck?” 

She watched his brows rise, appearing only mildly surprised. He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t look like he was about to skewer her for such a ‘vulgar insolent utterance!’ either. 

The silence between them stretched long as he shut his book. Slowly standing and striding to the far side of the counter. He rapped his knuckles lightly against it before giving her a considering look. Darcy watched the corner of his mouth tick up and questioned if her sanity had abandoned her. 

“My bed or yours?”

So that was a yes on the abrupt absence of her sanity. Neat. 

At her lack of a response he continued “Typically, I’m not one for exhibitionism, at least not without preamble.” By the end of the sentence, his smirk had turned positively wicked.

“Uh” gee, eloquent “Yours? It looks like a bomb went off in my apartment.”

He circled the counter in three quick confident steps and snaked one arm around her waist. “Shall we?”

He turned with her in his arms and she felt a cool prickle at the back of her neck, when she looked up she was in Loki’s bedroom, if the color scheme was anything to go by.

~Loki~

It was rare for Loki to find himself surprised. Even rarer at the hands of a midgardian. A few thousand years of experience and they had always remained a predictable lot. Upon first inspection, Darcy Lewis appeared to be exceptionally unremarkable in everything but her ability to spout every last thing that popped into her head without hesitation. Which on occasion had been quite humorous. Loki had paid no mind when he heard her shuffle into the kitchen and largely ignored her till she addressed him. Which was rare in and of itself, the girl typically demonstrated a healthy caution on the few occasions she had found herself alone with him. Polite but wary, given she had seen the violence he was capable of first hand. She was not a fool, however, the next thing that left her lips had him questioning his assessment of her, that or his hearing. 

She couldn’t be serious. She was lovely enough, soft curls, bright eyes, and a lush mouth. It had been a terribly long time since he had indulged in such carnal pursuits, but surely she could not be serious. Outside of obligatory greetings and the exchange of sarcastic retorts in Thor’s paramour’s lab, they’d barely spoken. 

She looked at him, wide-eyed, clearly anticipating the worst. Serious or not, that wouldn’t stop him from having a bit of fun. 

“My bed or yours?” Clearly not the response she was expecting. He watched her flounder, delighting in her shock, and continued “Typically, I’m not one for exhibitionism, at least not without preamble.” 

She tensed, then swallowed hard. You started this little mortal, an injudicious move to make against the trickster god.

“-yours-“

What? 

Well, unexpected it may be, but an unfortunate turn of events? Hardly. 

Her body was all warmth and soft curves under his hand.  
This was going to be fun.

~~~

Ms. Lewis had her hands fisted in his collar dragging him down for a kiss the moment his room materialized around them. He obliged her briefly before sliding his hands lower, lifting her thighs to wrap around his waist. Loki did so hate to hunch. Her arms came around his neck, one burying itself in his hair using her new angle to deepen the kiss. She tugged gently at his bottom lip pleading entrance, positively trembling for his touch. The kiss was slow, heated, and over too quickly if her little huff was any indication. This time he initiated the kiss. Dominating, teasing, he traced the tip of his tongue along the roof of her mouth and felt her shiver against him. He felt her hands drift lower, tugging at his shirtfront. Demanding little chit, wasn’t she? 

Let it never be said that Loki was not a generous god.

Delighted by her ardor, he asked “Now, ms. Lewis, tell me what you want.”

She tightened her grip, pressing her body flush against his, her breath on his neck as she spoke “I want you to fuck me so good I can’t think straight” 

She shifted, tugging lightly on his hair, to ghost her lips against the shell of his ear, voice barely audible when she breathed “I want to cum so hard I black out” ardant as a prayer. 

Loki reveled in her unabashed desire, the way she clung to his frame, churning her hips desperate for release. There’s something to be said for a woman who knows what she wants. Loki gripped her thighs as he strode across the room. Pinning her against the wall deepening the touch she so craved. He grinned, nipping lightly at her collarbone “That can be arranged.”

“In this century? Or are you planning on teasing me till-“

Swiftly Loki had her wrists in one hand pinning them above her head “I plan on teasing you for as long as it pleases me.” 

The following nip was none too gentle and Darcy jerked against him at the brief flash of pain, straining against the hold on her wrists. She tried to smother a whimper against his shoulder, and something primal in Loki preened. “Mind your tongue, or do you need a lesson in manners?” 

Her thighs clenched around him as she gasped a quietly.

He hummed in satisfaction, “better”

He released her wrists and lifted her higher, chuckling at her gasp, as her thighs came to rest on his shoulders. She tensed, heels digging into his back as she struggled for purchase. Apologies darling but I prefer you completely at my mercy, he thought smugly, ghosting his lips over her inner thigh. She gave another delicious whimper as he took a moment to admire her panties. They were pale teal dotted with pink roses, edged in lace, and becoming progressively darker where they pressed against her wet heat. Charming as they were, they were obstructing his goal, so he magicked them off. His hands too busy enjoying the feel of her full hips under his grip. 

She had a lovely cunt, flushed and glistening with the evidence of her arousal. He ran his silver tongue along her slit and heard her moan above him, urging him on. He was tempted to tease her. She looked so lovely, flushed, lightly panting, her skirt bunched above her thighs. Lovely, but he’d much rather see her absolutely ruined, debouched and gasping beneath him. He drove his tongue deeper, exploring her folds, and savored the noises she made. She gasped as he pressed a light hum against her, edging torturously close to her aching clit. He alternated between gentle licks and deep penetrating strokes, edging her so close to the precipice of her release before drawing back. 

She growled as he lowered her to the floor, her gaze caught between petulant and desperate as she leaned herself against the wall working to balance on unsteady legs. 

“You-”

“Do you require some assistance ms. Lewis?” All cool civility as he sauntered to the bed loosening his collar. 

He watched as her gaze caught on the newly exposed sliver of flesh. Amused as she made her way less gracefully across the room, coming to stand between his spread knees barely touching. She bit her lip as she grasped the sides of his shirt, and with an abrupt show of force, ripped it the rest of the way open. He heard two of the gilded buttons ping across the floor. She leaned in closer running hands up the planes of his chest. 

“I might with the pants.” 

Loki bared his teeth an a feral grin, roughly pulling her onto his lap before rolling her underneath him. Loki paused above her, his arms and legs caging her beneath him to take her in, lips full and flushed from their kiss and the abuse of her own teeth, hair mussed, pupils blown wide with arousal. How long had it been? Since he had touched another? How long had it been since he was desired? Loki had sometimes wondered if he had ever been desired as anything more than a prince, as the shadow of a prince, always the second choice. He brushed the useless thought away. He watched as she propped herself up on her elbows and raised to press a kiss to his lips. He snaked an arm beneath her pulling their bodies flush and deepened the kiss only relenting when she needed to breathe. 

He rose, settling on his knees, freeing his hands to caress her, her clothes vanishing under his touch. In the next moment, his pants were gone leaving them bare to one another. His left hand rested against her ribs, thumb tracing a lazy caress along the underside of her breast. His right was splayed between her collarbones. He watched her bite down a moan as he dragged the hand down between her breasts. Feeling her heartbeat flutter against his palm. Then lower, feeling the muscles of her abdomen tighten in anticipation. Finally, she let out a trembling breath as his fingers traveled over her mound and slid across her delicate folds. Loki swallowed at the slickness the coated his fingers, how divine she would feel wrapped around his aching cock. The first scratch of impatience, of need, pulled at the edges of his consciousness, coiling hot at the base of his spine. He groaned as he sunk a finger into her, her insides clenched tight around the digit. 

“More! Please Loki, I can’t, I need more” She raised her hips off the bed pushing on his hand. Insides pulsing. 

“As you wish” she had asked so nicely, and his name sounded so tempting on her lips. 

She whined as he withdrew, then quieted as he pressed in two fingers. He could feel the coverlet shift as her toes curled gripping and pulling at the fabric. Her hips shifted and rolled trying to force his touch deeper, guiding it where she craved. Loki brought his left hand down, forcing her hips to still. She would take what he offered, patiently, obediently. Even though his own patience was approaching its limits. He licked his lips as he scissored his fingers inside her, stretching her passage. She was positively pulsing around him, her eyes drawn shut, worrying her lower lip in her teeth, holding back moans. He began pumping his fingers into her, curling them up each time he withdrew. Feeling her thighs clench at his sides every time he brushed that spot. She mewled, straining against his hold. He continued, his composure slipping as he listened to her quiet desperate pants. Her chest rising and falling hypnotically with each one. When he sensed she was approaching her climax, he pulled his fingers free from her silken grip. 

She cried out in frustration, eyes snapping open with a furious glare. Needs unfulfilled, patience long gone, the rage in her eyes gave him a boyish thrill. Incensed, she snatched a pillow from the head of the bed and hurled it at his head. “Come on!”

He caught the pillow easily and tossed it over his shoulder. Then raised his hand before him admiring the way her slick coated his fingers, holding her gaze as he licked it off. Darcy whimpered and tried to rise, but he pushed her down, swiftly trapping her wrists again. Loki tsk’d “Now now, you asked for this. Remember?”

He watched her jaw work as she held back whatever she was clearly tempted to scream at him. “Come on.”

It sounded more like a demand to Loki. He sighed. He much preferred her begging. 

“come on” a whisper.

“please” 

Perfection, Loki responded with a satisfied hum and trailed hot kisses down her neck, grazing his teeth against her shoulder. Even the light touch it took to guide him to her entrance made Loki’s gut tighten. He eased in, as much for his benefit and hers. Fuck, how long had it been? 

She sighed “Say it again”

“Mn?”

She rolled her hips, suddenly taking him deeper “Fuck, say it again” 

Had he spoken aloud? “Why ms. Lewis?” He drew himself torturously from her, only the tip teasing her slick entrance. By the nine she was a mess! So wet, damp curls clinging to sweat-soaked skin, inner thighs coated in her precious honey. Loki groaned spreading her legs wide. Opening her to him further. He plunged in again, deeper. 

“Do you want me to fuck-” the word was accompanied by a forceful thrust “you? Do you want me to fuck you into this mattress till I’m sated? Use your sweet cunt till you can’t walk straight?” 

“Mmhmm” she assented, arching off the bed and exposing the kiss marked column of her throat.

He set an unwavering pace, hips meeting, and breath mingling in time to their shared rhythm. He cradled the base of her skull in one hand, fingers buried deep in her silky hair. He slid the other between them pressing oh so gently against her abdomen. 

“Do you want me to fuck you till your insides take the shape of my cock? So you’ll feel its absence, and ache for it, for days” he hissed against her throat. 

He felt her insides spasm around him, nearly faltering. She felt incredible, never had he slotted so perfectly against another person. Soft where he was unyielding, lush vulnerable features, where he was harsh and angular. A perfect antithesis to his form. Even her stature had its charms. He may have to stoop to kiss her but he could easily position her any way he pleased. He palmed one breast, head bowing to scrape his teeth lightly over the nipple of the other. The sound she made was intoxicating, it made him want to drag out this delicious torture. To see her fully lose herself to pleasure and release all the wonderful sounds she denied him. Perhaps another time. Loki felt himself slipping. He shifted their position till she was straddling his lap. Poor lamb, her legs must be so weak. They slid out underneath her. Unable to hold herself up she crumpled, taking him to the root. She gasped as he bottomed out, and ground his hips against her. 

She writhed atop him, clutching his shoulder for purchase, panting for release. “Now my darling, remind me what you asked for?” His voice rough.

She mumbled, barely intelligible “Mn...ahn!...so close, pl-Loki” Her nails dug harshly into his back “make me cum!”

Close enough, he thought, too far gone to taunt her further. She was close, he could feel it. He snaked one hand between them, tracing over her sensitized skin before he reached her poor neglected pearl. Her reaction was instantaneous, he felt her muscles jolt around his cock. He worked her clit over and thrust into her. She trembled around him. It took only moments for her to come apart. Her entire body going rigid as her eyes fluttered shut. Then she was lax, nearly boneless, except for the exquisite muscles still spasming around him as he fucked her through the aftershocks of her orgasm. 

He brought them both down to the bed, bodies still intertwined, reluctant to pull away from her embrace. After a moment Loki realized with satisfaction that Darcy’s eyes were closed and appeared to be lightly dosing. 

She was lovely like this. Admittedly, his perception may have been colored by the postcoital glow, but she had a raw sort of loveliness. Up close he could appreciate the finer details, the arch of her brow, the length of her dark lashes. Her eyes opened and Loki stilled, her gaze was so soft, guileless. When he spoke his voice came out softer than he anticipated. 

“Satisfied?”

She smiled, alighting her face with good humor “Yes”

She reached for him and carded her fingers through his hair, gently scraping her blunt nails against his scalp. Unconsciously, he leaned into the touch. “Thank you, Loki” 

She pulled away then, luxuriating in a feline stretch. Loki’s ears perked at the series of cracks emanating—Norns! Was that her joints? Mortals are so fallible. She settled on her back beside him, addressing the ceiling. “So, do my clothes still exist?”

Loki snorted gesturing at a small pile folded on the dresser.

“Neat trick!” She grinned, then paused “...I’m on regular old midgardian birth control is that gonna, suffice?” 

Loki shifted to run a lazy caress across her abdomen “Fear not, there is no chance of conception.”

“Handy” she mused, sitting up. 

Loki appreciated her form as she rose. As well as the marks he’d left upon it. He took satisfaction in the unsteadiness of her legs. She made her way over to her clothes, he could see in the set of her back the moment she discovered an article was missing. She turns as she dresses and the look on her face says all it needs to. She walks back to the bed, putting one knee on it to lean over and place a light kiss on his brow, and a whispered thanks against his cheek, then leaves. 

Wait. 

What?

~Darcy~

As he lifted and manhandled her with seemingly no effort Darcy was reminded of exactly who she had just propositioned. Loki didn’t wear his strength as plainly as Thor or the Captain. He rarely relied on it, which made it easy to forget the inhuman power he wielded. He was strong enough to defenestrate Tony Stark through plate glass one-handed and he currently had both of those hands wrapped around her thighs-oh fuck. The immediate bodily panic was an effective distraction from the soul-crushing existential panic of her best friend being in mortal danger, possibly dead. In a fucked-up way, this was good, it was real. Maybe real enough to eclipse the hypotheticals that threatened to suffocate her. So Darcy clung to him like her sanity depended on it. Kissed him and hoped that he remembered puny mortals like her weren’t nearly as durable as asguardians. 

She tried to focus on sensations. The feel of his lips, his tongue as it slid against hers. The unyielding plains of his body. She ran her hands through the silky strands of his hair, twining them around her fingers. She clung to everything real and tried to banish everything else from her mind. 

He distracted her from tugging at his shirt front when he spoke “Now, ms. Lewis, tell me what you want.”

That voice, Jesus. She felt it melt through her, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. Rolling her hips against him, stoking the fire that voice had just lit, her own voice came out far smokier than she expected “I want you to fuck me so good I can’t think straight.” she could feel his lips curling into a smirk against her cheek. Screw it, in for a penny in for a pound (or pounding, as the case may be) “I want to cum so hard I black out”

“That can be arranged.” He said it with the sort of earned arrogance that made her optimistic about the prospects of him delivering on that promise. Darcy latched on the feeling, the lust, his voice, his body. She clung to everything in that moment. Regardless of how it looked, what anyone might think of her, what he might assume about her. She needed this escape, nothing else mattered. 

And he had the nerve to be a fucking tease! To kiss her near senseless, pin her to the wall, rub his goddamn erection over her panties, and what? Just stand there looking smug!? 

FUCK ME NOW

Darcy thought she had made her intentions pretty fucking crystal clear! She clenched her legs tighter around him and rolled her hips against his, aching for some kind of stimulation, distraction, for Loki to get with the fucking program because not all of us are immortal!

“In this century? Or are you planning on teasing me till-“

Oh- that certainly got a reaction. Loki struck like a viper pinning her hands before she could even finish her thought. He didn’t break the skin, but his bite hurt like a bitch and she’d bet good money the mark that it was going to leave would be spectacular. However, the pain was quickly forgotten as mr. bossypants shoved her up the wall. Literally up the wall! Thighs over his shoulders, pussy at eye level. The casual show of strength combined with the visceral reminder of how freakishly tall he was, already had her mind reeling pleasedon’tdropmepleasedon’tdropmepleasedon’tdropme! When he pressed his hot mouth against her, her brain damn near short-circuited! 

Darcy wasn’t sure she could accurately describe the noise she made when he started tongue-fucking her, but she was reasonably sure she had never made it before. Silver-tongued indeed. She felt precarious, both in her position, and her rapidly approaching release. Then the rat bastard decided to stop! Firm hands letting her slide slowly down the wall. Cool air against her bare achingly sensitive core. 

She was going to strangle him with one of his numerous unnecessary leather straps!

Still leaning against the wall, she watched him saunter over to the bed. Clever hands effortlessly revealing the tops of his collarbones.

Fuck he was pretty. 

She channeled her growing frustration into ripping his shirt off. She was half expecting another imperious reprimand, the feral grin he flashed was so much better. She clenched her thighs together involuntailry and felt her arousal slick and dripping between them. Darcy wanted to shove him back onto the bed and ride his dick till it broke, but those pants looked like you needed a semester of ‘historical tailoring and the culmination of Viking fetishwear’ to remove. Fortunately, his fingers were a very diverting distraction. 

She reveled in the feeling of his cool linens against her back, and the intensity radiating from the man above her. His hands lavished attention across her sensitive skin. When he slid a finger past her slick folds she felt her insides clamp down around the digit. It felt so good to have something filling that void, but it wasn’t nearly enough. When he added a second she had to bite back a moan. Darcy loathed to admit it, but privately she thought perhaps a teeny tiny bit of that arrogance was earned. Loki was doing more to her with two fingers than some past partners had done with there entire bodies and battery-operated assistance. 

She was so damn close. The way he worked over her g-spot would have her writhing on the bed if he didn’t have her pinned to the mattress with his other hand. Her insides pulsed around his fingers hungrily, just a little more. She longed for him to pay her clit similar attention to rock her over the edge. Just a-

MOTHERFUCKER

Forget straps! She was going to suffocate Loki Black Widow style, thighs around his head. The bastard would have to make her cum if he wanted oxygen! She chucked a pillow at his head with as much force as humanly possible. Of course, he caught it, impish little smirk on his stupid elegant boney-ass face! Then she watched him bring his fingers, his very skilled fingers, to his mouth and that fantastic tongue laved her glistening arousal off each digit. Oh fuck me, that’s not fair. 

“Now now, you asked for this. Remember?” Loki’s eyes were dilated nearly black as spoke to her. 

Stupid asguardian princes! Stupid stress-induced lady boners! Stupid teasing neglect-play bullshit! Stupid Darcy for getting herself into this! She wanted Loki’s DICK IN HER, not Loki to BE A DICK. 

“Come on.”-and fuck my brains out already you prick!

No dice. 

“come on” 

Darcy had never had to beg for dick in her life! Hell, she spent more time dodging it than anything else! He just sat there, like he didn’t have a raging erection oozing pre-cum down her thigh! Fuck it. Pride is for arrogant assholes anyway, gimme orgasms. 

“please”

It wasn’t like she meant it, she was just playing to his enormous ego for her gain. She nearly sighed as he pushed past her entrance, slowly pushing deeper till his hips slotted against hers, leaving her deliciously deliriously full. Worth it. 

He growled a low “fuck” into the side of her neck. Making the sensitive skin tingle with the vibrations. The coarse expletive sounded so damn pretty coming out of his posh mouth.  
“Say it again”

He didn’t even look up just moaned a questioning little noise into her breast. 

She dug her fingers into his hair and rolled her hips beneath him.  
“Fuck, say it again.”

Darcy felt a shift in his demeanor. That, or his dick twitch inside her. Before his entrance had been gentle, even careful, but as he drew back it was like watching a serpent coil before the strike.

“Why ms. Lewis?” The smooth glide of their bodies sent a shiver down her spine. His hands were heavy on her thighs, lazy strength forcing them wider. Her skin felt cool where the air touched her slick skin. 

“Do you want me to fuck-“ Oh god. “you? Do you want me to fuck you into this mattress till I’m sated? Use your sweet cunt till you can’t walk straight?” Yes please with whip cream and a motherfucking cherry on top! Darcy’s mind was reeling, how the hell did this feel so good!? It wasn’t as if he was doing anything groundbreaking, nailing her to the mattress in missionary, but it did. The way he flexed his hips, angling each thrust, the unrelenting rhythm of his body against hers, his hands! Holy hell his goddamn hands! 

“Do you want me to fuck you till your insides take the shape of my cock? So you’ll feel it’s absence, and ache for it, for days”  
Darcy had no idea what she expected as far as dirty talk, but something about hearing the oh-so-poised-prince-of-perfect-posture pour sweet filthy nothings into her ear was doing things to her brain. Combined with the pressure of his hand low on her belly demonstrating how her body was indeed doing just that. Taking him in, molding around him like she was made for it. It was obscene, and so so good. 

She clenched her insides around him, relishing the feel of him. Darcy wasn’t sure if it was because she was coming off an extended dry spell, or if his cock was actually magic, but she knew she wanted more. 

And mercy, did he give it to her. Loki filled her again and again, each thrust bringing his pelvic bone close enough to press her clit, sending a little jolt of pleasure up her spine. Mid thrust he shifted their position. Unprepared for the move, Darcy let gravity pull her hips down. Taking him all the way to the root. She felt the air leave her lungs at the sudden fullness. Hadn’t she been hoping to ride him? No time like the present. She ground her hips down in lazy circles. Wishing she could keep going like this for hours, but it felt like the pressure from her two denied orgasms had compounded on one another, making her whole body throb and tremble with the need to release. 

He asked her something. Fuck what did he say? It was hard to think, any concentration she had was fixated on maddening heat coiling at the base of her spine. If he stopped again, Darcy would find a way to kill a god. She just wanted to cum, or she was sure she going to combust. 

She felt his touch slither down her body. Her entire body jolting as he made contact with her clit. He worked her clit over, deliciously matching the rhythm of his cock filling her over and over and-

Her entire body tensed with the force of her release. Toes curled, hands gripping at his pale shoulders for dear life, back arched and taught, and like a puppet with its strings snipped she went lax. Her body felt simultaneously light and impossibly heavy. Her skin tingled and her insides jolted with every thrust as Loki continued to fuck her. When he finished and brought them down to the sheets still connected, Darcy felt like she could melt into the mattress. So she did, she let her heavy limbs sink into the luxurious bedding and just breathed. 

When she opened her eyes Loki was staring at her with an odd look on his face. After a moment he spoke “Satisfied?” because of-fucking-corse he’d ask that. 

His ego certainly didn’t need the boost, but she wasn’t about to deny credit for a job well done. Also, lying to ‘god of lies’? Not a great idea. She nearly laughed as she said yes, and let herself pet him. She was shocked when he leaned into the touch like a big contented cat. Oof, he was not supposed to be adorable. Loki shouldn’t be capable of ‘cute’, he’d probably find a way to weaponize it. Ah, that was an unfortunate reminder, this was Loki nuzzling into her touch, not a kitten. Big scary, tentatively not evil definitely-should-not-fuck-with Loki. Oops. 

“Thank you Loki” She meant it. This had been exactly what she needed. She could breathe again. Her thoughts were clear, and that clarity came with the realization that she should probably clear out while he was still in a pleasant post-coital haze, before he remembered his stance on puny insignificant mortals. She rolled onto her back, working out all the kinks and tension that had been loosened up during her roll in the sheets. Sex, it does the body good. Hers at least. The crick in her neck popped satisfyingly. Then Darcy remembered...not remembering taking off her clothes. 

“So, do my clothes still exist?”

Loki snorted, actually snorted, and waved his hand vaguely in the direction of a large dresser, where her clothes sat neatly folded. Wow, go magic, points for slytherin or whatever. That was pretty fuckin’ cool! “Neat trick!” 

Oh right, Darcy had just had unprotected sex with a magical alien “...I’m on regular old midguardian birth control is that gonna, suffice?” 

She nearly jumped as those very magical (fuck, she wanted a round two) fingers grazed her stomach. “Fear not, there is no chance of conception.” 

Okay, double points for slytherin “Handy”

That settled, it was time for Darcy to make a strategic retreat. She wobbled over to her, (magically dry cleaned? was that just part of the spell or him being...nice?) clothes...Sans panties. Probably just a feature of the spell then, the little shit. Whatever, a pair of panties for that experience? Not a terrible trade. She quickly dressed and then, against her better judgment, tiptoed back to his bedside and snuck a quick kiss and thank you. What? Well-fucked and sleepy is a good look on him. Dangerously good. With that, she sliped away. Clear headed and a little sore, in the best kind of way. 

~~~

Authors Note:  
As someone who hasn’t actually had sex, I feel hilariously unqualified writing about it. So I’m curious to know, from those of you that do the 'do', how'd I do? Also, is sex as fun as it is to read/write? or is it another case of fiction being better than reality. As delightful as it to read, seems uncomfortable.


	2. Whoops the Sequel

Thoughts of his encounter with ms. Lewis had been gnawing at the back of Loki’s mind since it transpired. 

He should have been pleased really. How many times had he been forced to dismiss some watery-eyed bed warmer who mistook a passing dalliance for a burgeoning romance with Asgard’s raven prince? The girl had enough good sense to leave on her own. He should have been pleased. Then why did he find himself so...so irritated!? She had just left without so much as a- Well, actually she had thanked him. Twice. Unsatisfied, that was it. He was a god, how could he possibly be satisfied with such an insufficient morsel? She had whet his appetite, then left him wanting. Likely as petty vengeance for his teasing. Foolish little ms. Lewis, you truly ought to know better than to taunt a beast. She had inspired a hunger in him and that girl, with her bountiful curves and lush mouth, she was meant to be a meal. 

“Is it just me or does your lil’ bro look more murder-y than usual?” Stark said between mouthfuls of lamb korma. 

Thor looked across the dilapidated landscape of takeout containers at his brother. Staring broodingly into the middle distance had been a persistent pastime of Loki’s for...Thor actually struggled to remember when that particular habit culminated “No, that’s a rather common expression for him” 

Natasha stabbed a samosa out from under Thor’s approaching hand “I fail to see how that’s comforting”

Thor’s pouting was averted by the sound of the freezer door being slammed shut. The odd dinner assembly watched as Darcy slowly turned from the fridge. Now, you would expect a group of near super-human, nigh inhuman, world saving badasses to be pretty fearless. Especially when faced with a five foot two, near-sighted, athletically uninclined research assistant, but over half of the group tensed. If only slightly, and one visibly recoiled at the expression on Darcy’s spectacled face. 

“As long as we're casually discussing murder, who the fuck ate my coffee coffee buzz buzz buzz!? And what would you like your obituary to read? So I can let them know in advance?” 

She scanned the crowd, zeroing in on a casually retreating Clint. “YOU!!! Empty milk carton leaving, iPod stealing, birdbrained piece of burnt toast!” She rushed him wielding the empty pint container like a live grenade. Holding the evidence aloft her eyes burned with the promise of violence “I know you did this. Confess!”

“Darcy-“ Clint began, hands held up placatingly. 

“Here lies agent magpie, now in significantly more pieces than we remembered him in life. A man who devoted his life to the mastery of archaic projectiles-“

“Darce, That’s hurtful”

“-and never got his own action figure. Despite super spy-sassin status, ever remained breathtakingly inept at WiiSports. He is survived by the mold slowly gaining sentience in his locker. May he rest in pieces.” Darcy finished her dramatic recitation with an unladylike gesture before hurling the empty container into the bin and advancing on the man. 

“I have an action figure.”

“That’s the point you choose to focus on!?...wait, you do? Lemme see” successfully distracted. Darcy perched over Clint’s left shoulder as he pulled an image up on his phone, stealing pakora while he was occupied.

The snack paused halfway to her mouth as the picture came up before her shoulders started shaking “THAT? That’s your action figure?” She was nearly unintelligible with laughter “please tell me you own these sunglasses or are they just there because the poor designer couldn’t get your face right” 

“No one could capture this perfection” 

“That’s for sure, I need one...also a lock of hair. For science reasons” and in a rare show of agility, she plucked a few strands from his head and bolted. Snack in one hand, dna sample in the other. 

“Oh no, you are not screwing with that voodoo shit Lewis! I’ll replace your stupid Ben and Jerry’s, just-” Darcy wiggled her eyebrows as the elevator doors shut just in time “you’re dead to me short-stack. DEAD!” 

Loki watched the bizarre scene play out with new eyes. She had always been boisterous, especially in the company of those like Barton, Stark, and Thor. Now, he could see her penchant for mischief for what it was. Petty, but she clearly had a healthy appreciation for chaos. Despite being on the receiving end of her tirade, the archer seemed to take it in good humor. His words carrying little malice. It was odd how easily they accepted her despite her presence serving no apparent purpose. 

Inconsequential, capricious, loud, amusing, lovely, and wholly unremarkable. She should have been entirely beneath his notice...should have, if not for the reminder of her warm-

“Brother!” It took truly godlike restraint to prevent Loki from rolling his eyes. When would the oaf learn? He shifted his gaze to Thor. More specifically the alarmingly orange splotch of something taking residence in his beard. You’d never know looking at him that he was raised in a palace.

Thor took his thinly veiled disdain for acknowledgment and continued “Stark tells me there’s been little progress on the disruption field device?”

Disruption indeed. “By all means, you’re welcome to offer your expertise. An invaluable contribution, given your vast knowledge on transdimensional bridging, I’m sure.” Loki unceremoniously dropped his takeout container in the bin before appearing to blink out of existence mid-step.

“Geez, who spit in his saag?”

~~~

The following...morning? mid-afternoon? It was hard to tell. Time had a way of moving differently in the lab. The lights seemed to always be on, rendering things like day & night largely irrelevant, at least to its occupants. Darcy seamlessly switched back and forth between data entry and trolling the web for a genuine Hawkeye action figure. Apparently, due to lack of popularity, they had only made a limited run. While that little tidbit amused her to no end, it did make the little hunks of plastic quite rare and tricky to get a hold of. Outbid by someone with the username ‘violetfletching86’ Darcy shifted back to her spreadsheet and continued to interpret Jane’s spastic glyphs. Which surprisingly, were still beyond Jarvis’ ability to translate, who’s accuracy rate remained stubbornly at 46% despite mountains of compiled data. I DO serve a purpose besides snack enforcement, suck it Stark!

She yawned, her stretch surprisingly free of the usual snap crackle and pop thanks to the lingering effects of-  
No. We’re not thinking about that. At least not during work, especially not with the man in question less than 20 feet away separated only by a glass partition. Nope. Not the time. Not the place. Darcy in no way regretted that little adventure, she just questioned the wisdom of it. Hindsight being 20/20 and all that. What could she say? Her appraisal impairment apparently extended way beyond just vision. 

“Darcy” 

“Yes?” Darcy drew the word out long as she abandoned her screen to look at Jane. 

Jane responded with a pinched look and tight whisper “What did you do?” 

“You’re going to have to be a bit more specific, it’s a long list. Which includes filing your taxes by the by. Your welcome” 

Jane paused, processing that information for a moment “Oh, thank you...No, I’m talking about Loki dissecting you with his eyeballs!” 

Darcy half-heartedly glanced at Loki, going through the motions more than anything. She didn’t trust her eyes not to linger “I’m pretty sure he usually looks like that” 

That was bullshit. Darcy had no clue how he looked, other than being an unfocused smudge of black and alabaster. Jane however, didn’t seem to want to let the subject drop. “...fair, but it’s pretty unusual for it to be pointed in your direction” 

Damn boss lady, of all the times to be observant. The subject of Loki was not conducive to her productivity. Kinda the opposite really “Okay yeah, but this is Loki we’re talking about, isn’t unusual kinda the usual? So I’m electing to ignore it. Speaking of ignoring, I see you still haven’t eaten breakfast-“

Darcy spotted what was definitely a corner of bread peeking out from under a tangle of cables “....is that yesterday’s sandwich? Janey.” 

“Are you sure that’s the best id-

“Eat. Food. Woman. Brains need calories. I’m not about to take advice from someone with their shirt on inside out and backwards.” 

Darcy sighed, she had been surprisingly successful up until this point at not thinking about Loki (too much, off the clock Darcy was content to let her imagination do whatever it pleased with the knowledge of what he looked like naked) but new vaguely-aware-of-her-surroundings Jane was throwing a real monkey wrench into that business.

“How bout this? You eat while I make a fresh pot, and once I can carry your empty plates to the kitchen I’ll leave you in peace. Your chicken scratch is blessedly portable today, so you’ll have a Darcy free lab till I’m through with it. Just promise not to blow anything up”

“I’m not Tony” 

“I file ripping open volatile tears in the fabric of our universe under ‘blowing things up’”

“That was-“ 

-one of the worst Thursdays in recent memory? Yes, it was. “Even itty bitty ones! Do we have a deal?”  
Jane blushed, properly chastised “deal.”

Darcy roused herself, grabbing Jane’s mug on the way out. Was that a dry erase marker? Then where the hell was the spoon?   
When she returned steaming cups in hand the plates were empty and the spoon in question sat cheerily in a cup full of pens. 

Geniuses. 

Darcy smiled collecting her work, for all her faults Jane was a good friend and an extraordinarily accomplished human. It was kinda nice to know there was stuff she sucked at, even if it made her an adorably petite pain in the ass. 

~~~

Loki found ms. Lewis seated on the floor in front of the couch. Head leaned back, hair sprawled across the cushion. In front of her, the coffee table had vanished under a flurry of notes, written on everything from paper to disposable coffee cozies. Her eyes were closed under slightly askew glasses. His eyes traveled down the pale column of her throat, disappointed to find the marks he’d left mostly faded. 

“Ms. Lewis” 

She jolted to alertness, glasses sliding precariously down her nose. “NOT NAPPING! Just resting my—oh, hi” 

In the course of seven words, she’d gone from bewildered to defensive to joking to uncharacteristically shy. Human lives were short but the rate at which she tumbled through the emotional spectrum was remarkable. The expression her face settled on was somewhere between allured and confused, and again he questioned why he found himself thinking about this disaster of a woman. 

“Loki? Didja want something?” He wondered if she had some kind of vendetta against her own language, butchering it the way she did. 

“Indeed I did, are you busy?” It was a deliberate echo of what she’d asked him. After all, they were alone. It was a prime opportunity. 

“Well, I was decoding the mysteries of the universe, but I got distracted by the backs of my eyelids” That she managed to say it without even a hint of sarcasm, made Loki think she might be a more capable liar than she appeared. That, or she was entirely serious. He refused to believe she hadn’t noticed the hint. 

She fixed him with an expectant look “Soooo...No, not particularly.” 

One hand perked up from the couch in a lazy ‘go on’ sort of gesture. Impudent little- waving him on like he was some insignificant peon! To treat him like...everyone else...he realized that since their tryst she’d abandon any lingering caution of him, and treated his as she did Stark, Dr. Banner, or the Widow, even nameless grunts around the building. She didn’t share the same closeness she had with Dr. Foster, he’d seen the two women communicate exclusively in monosyllabic grunts one sleepless morning, but she had any easy friendliness, irreverence, with seemingly everyone she encountered. He didn’t know what to make of that. On the one hand, wasn’t it a gift to have his past overlooked, to not be skirted around like some treacherous pariah? On the other, he was a prince. A God! What was she? A superfluous tag along caught up in the machinations of powers beyond her comprehension? She was nothing. Nothing but a warm body and a pleasant face. Among other pleasant features, and wasn’t everything else irrelevant? Loki’d approached her with one purpose. A purpose she fulfilled quite beautifully. Did anything else really matter? He dragged his eyes along the length of her body, remembering the way it yielded under his touch. When his gaze returned to her face he was pleased to find a light flush across her cheeks. 

“Oh...Oooooh.” Eyes widening with realization. Her face broke into a mischievous grin. “You’re gonna have to say it. Humans aren’t typically mind readers” 

It wasn’t hard to quash the grin that tried to rise to his lips. She was incorrigible “Though some of you are clearly preternaturally dense”

“Uh-uh, willfully. Willfully dense. I want to hear you say it”

“Come on” she playfully whined. Oh, and weren’t those two words from her lips a lovely reminder. 

“Care to get fucked?” He watched her flush deepen as she bit her lip.

“Nah-“ What? Did she-

“-I got fucked last time. This time, you’re getting fucked.” Well, an interesting development but he was hardly displeased. Loki spread his arms lazily, halfway between a challenge and a welcome to embrace. 

“As you wish” 

~~~

Unf, Did he know she had a lifelong crush on Westley? Cause he was hitting all her buttons with that line. That combined with his fancy boy accent, magic hands, and that whole head-to-toe gorgeous thing he had going on, fuck he was dangerous. 

Also, FUCK he was dangerous! 

But apparently, the power of lady boners was stronger than good sense cause Darcy was about to Get Some. 

Darcy could safely say that she had never taken a running tackle at any of her previous fuck buddies, but she could also safely say that none of them were superhumanly strong alien princes. As she predicted, he caught her like a champ and she felt the tingle of his magic across her skin before she’d even paused from mauling his face. Good lord, this was such a bad idea. She felt his fingers glide under the hem of her shorts, deliciously gripping her ass. Best bad idea ever.

~~~

Another way Darcy diverted from his typical lovers, one of a growing list, is he had never been quite so literally pounced on. After he’d spoken her eyes had taken on an unexpected sort of glee and two steps after standing she broke into a run and leaped on him. It was unexpected to say the least but as he felt her breasts press against him, he found that he didn’t particularly mind that she was latched onto him like a Muspelheim strangling wyrm. A sort of soft, sweet smelling-norns her mouth!-wyrm. 

She held the kiss, sharing breath. Her tongue slid against his as she gripped his hair angling his mouth against hers. Loki felt her legs release his waist and he bent to let her feet touch the floor. A hand slid from the base of his skull down his neck to splay across his chest and she pushed him! ‘As you wish’ he’d said, how was he to know she’d take it so literally? Nonetheless, he allowed it curious to see how she’d venture. She continued to nudge him till the backs of his knees came to the edge of the bed. 

Finally, she released the kiss with a gasp and brought her other hand down, lightly scraping her nails from jaw to collarbone, and used both hands to push him back onto the bed. He watched her grin down at him. Her shoulders shook ever so slightly and he realized she was giggling, nearly silent, but her laughter was clear in the curl of her lips. It became audible as she hopped onto the bed and straddled his hips. Playfully she circled her hips, grinding her core against his tightening trousers. 

“Oh my god!” Still laughing She appeared to be addressing the ceiling. Head tilted back, throat exposed. There! As her collar shifted he could see one of his marks. The reddened mark sinful against her milky skin. 

“Yes?” Because wasn’t he? She may be atop him but she was still on her knees. 

“Hmm. You’d have a point there, but your just a god. You’re not my god.” It was odd to have his godhood acknowledged, and disregarded in quick succession. He might have been offended if he wasn’t quite so occupied with watching her glittering purple nails flick open one button after the other down her blouse. 

“And just who is your god ms. Lewis?”

“I’m not sure, but she’s mine” She rolled her shoulders and slid the blouse down her arms and let it fall to the floor.   
Loki had seen extraordinary things across the universe, but her chest was truly magnificent in translucent aubergine lace. Loki decided then that he rather liked bras, and ought to take the time to fully appreciate them. It was a waste to simply magic them away when he could be removing them in more creative ways. He watched a strap fall from her shoulder and he wanted to kiss the red mark it left behind. He raised to do just that, only to be pushed back down. She appraised him, thumb resting on the hollow of his throat. 

“It can’t be that complicated. Dude, how are you not roasting under all these layers?” Ah yes, he remembered that she also spoke. Unfortunate that. 

She said far more with her eyes, and more elegantly...perhaps less inelegantly would be a more fitting description. The woman currently tugging at his clothes was many things, but elegant? 

...She could be, sleepy arching stretches on soft sun-soaked sheets, golden light highlighting the warmth in her dark chocolate hair. 

She could be. When thoroughly reimagined as something so far removed from reality that Loki was reminded of his brief sabbatical from sanity. For all his years he was still not immune to the occasional lapse in judgment. 

Loki jolted as she roughly palmed him through the fabric of his trousers. “Hey, you still with me?” 

“How could I be anywhere else?”

“I don’t know, you can teleport, make illusions, commandeer a life model decoy and gussy it up for a bizarrely elaborate prank. The more I think about it, the less I care. Take off your clothes.” 

This. 

This was the temptress that had managed to make herself a formidable distraction? He imagined a past self would be laughing in his face right about now. Perhaps, but situations change and so had he, adaptation and survival go hand-in-hand. Loki intended to do far more than just survive. He’d just have to coax lovelier things, better suited to those lips, from her mouth. 

“As you wish” a lazy ripple of magic across his skin had his clothes off in the blink of an eye. 

“Fuck yes” ...not quite... “That’s a very dangerous thing to say to me, you know?” She hardly looked dangerous, hair fluffed, cheeks flushed, biting her lip to stop herself from a full blown grin. She looked giddy. 

“I dare say you’re not the most exemplary judge of danger.” She pursed her lips, knowing he was right. 

“I think I like it better when you say ‘as you wish’… Although, a little dirty talk in that accent comes in a close second” her fingers danced across his skin, taking in the lithe contours of his torso. 

“Actually...third, the best thing you do with your mouth involves no talking whatsoever.” still grinning “Your highness, would you be oh so kind as to let me sit on your face?” 

~~~

Oh. He had a nice laugh, even as he tried to cut it short. She could feel his stomach muscles shake under her. Fuck, she needed these panties off now. 

Suddenly she stood on the bed and in a zip and a shimmy her shorts were off. Loki shifted on the bed. On his knees, his head still nearly reached her chest. Lanky motherfucker. He kissed her just below her ribs and slid his hands up her legs, lacing his fingers under the sides of her panties. When he spoke she felt his breath ghost across her stomach.

“I’d like to remove these myself, may I?” 

Yes. Very yes. She was surprised they hadn’t dropped on their own. 

“With your teeth?” She’d said it as a joke. 

Darcy knew Loki thought she was ridiculous, because well...she was. Ridiculous seemed like a mandatory qualification to even live with these people. Darcy had discussed the merits of heels vs wedges with a woman who literally had killer thighs! With a bodycount! It was meant to be a joke. Now that she knew she could make him laugh, she wanted to make him do it more. Besides, ripping someone's clothes off with your teeth was the kind of thing that sounded hot in theory, but couldn’t be anything but awkward in reality. 

Loki peppered kisses down her skin till he came to the waistband of her panties. With his teeth, he plucked at the little bow at the front and released it letting the elastic snap against her skin. He soothed the little sting with a kiss and placed hot open mouthed kisses along till he reached the side seam at her hip. She shivered as the moisture on her skin cooled quickly. She quietly enjoyed the way he gripped her ass. It wasn’t a bruising grip but it was strong enough for her to trust in his strength to hold her. She felt him kiss her hipbone before she heard a startling rip. She looked down to find Loki with a corner of the remnants of her panties still in his teeth. He’d torn clean through the side seam!

What. The. Fuck. 

Oh. Well now. Darcy had to rescind her previous thoughts on the matter of removing clothes with teeth. Cause fuck if that wasn’t a whopping direct deposit into the spank bank! With the waistband torn she felt her panties begin to slip down her leg. Loki coaxed her thighs apart and the garment fell down to her ankle. Legs feeling a tiny bit wobbly after that little display, Darcy lowered herself to her knees on the bed. 

Now she was stuck looking up at him again. “You’re very compliant today. You sure you’re not an LMD?”

“Very sure.”

“Not that that’s a dealbreaker or anything, I’m totally down for my own personal Loki sexdroid. Major upgrade from my current vibe. Though I’m still not totally clear on whether or not they have free will, cause that calls into question some very important matters of consent-“

“Darcy” -did he just?

“Mnnn?” His mouth met her’s in a forceful kiss. 

A lesser woman might be swept away by a kiss like that. Nuh-uh buster, you ain’t taking the reigns this time. She slid her hand up his inner thigh, ghosting a touch along his hardened length. She took it in hand and slid her thumb along his length. 

“Loki”

“Lay down.” 

...and he did. It was fucking bizarre and unbelievably hot having him follow her orders. Granted, she did have his dick in her hand which gave her a bit of leverage. She shifted, her knees straddled his head and she continued to run a lazy hand along his length. Well, this was a bit nerve wracking, considering she’d never actually come close to sitting on anyone’s face. She wasn’t exactly waifish. She may talk a big game but the actual logistics were pretty foreign to her. So she let her hips hover above his mouth as she ran her tongue up his shaft. 

~~~

She couldn’t see his grin. The girl was nervous. How delightful. Though it was clear she had plenty of experience, Loki wondered at the quality of that experience. At least in the receiving of oral, she was quite gifted at giving it. Loki’s heels dug into the mattress as her warm mouth engulfed him. He snaked his arms around her thighs and pulled her hips down to his waiting mouth. He didn’t hear so much as feel the surprised little moan as he dragged his tongue along her slit. Her, with her mouth occupied by his cock. Him, with unfettered access to her most sensitive parts. Loki had to admit, it was a superb arrangement. He continued to work his tongue deeper, feeling her clench and shiver around him. The muffled vibrations of her moans around his cock driving him to draw her deeper into pleasure just to hear and feel her continue. 

He shifted his attention to her clit and she came up with a gasp. Her back arched, thighs splayed as she was caught in the sensation. Whatever nerves that had been holding her back clearly forgotten. Loki chuckled, and the little warbling whine that she made in response to the vibrations made it difficult to stop. She melted back down onto her elbows and muffled her sounds against his thigh. Drat, we’ll be having none of that. His mouth stilled and he let the weight of his arms on her thighs lift. 

And she bit him! 

Well, it was more of a little nip on his inner thigh, but it was the precedence of the act! One does not simply bite a prince of Asgard! Did she have no manners at all? Loki had been pounced on, giggled at, and now bitten! ...and yet, he was still thoroughly aroused. He wondered if he had taken one too many blows to the head from that green monstrosity? Why else would he tolerate her sheer insolence? Loki growled.

And was rewarded with a low moan. Then some of her weight lifted and she peered down at him “Just making sure you’re still alive down there. I’d hate to suffocate you, regicide is not on my to-do list.” 

She mused for a moment, pulling back to shift her position, lightly sitting on his chest. When would the girl learn he was no mere mortal? “Is it still regicide if it’s just a brief usurper or prince?”

How dare she! He wasn’t sure if she was trying to bait him or was just a fool “Usurper? My claim was legitimate.” 

Despite the irritation clear in his voice, her posture softened, thighs relaxing to let him take her weight. “King indisposed, crown prince temporarily uneligible, if anything, Frigga should have been made queen regent, it’s not as if you have no sway with her. You could have ruled in everything but name” 

Oh, and there she had landed upon the exact barb that had dug into his side for millennia even before he’d ever learned of his true heritage. ‘In everything but name’. He’d always had a measure of power, but never credit, never once acknowledged for the things he'd done for his kingdom, his king, his own not-brother. He could have had power, even if Thor had taken the throne. Could have orchestrated the nine realms into a new age, and not a soul would ever know he’d done so. His rage did not burn as it used to, but that she had voiced the root of it so blithely, lit a cold fury in him. 

But none of it showed when he spoke next “Why are we discussing this?” 

“because you’ve got a bit of that hot-english-professor vibe going on, so I assumed you’d know. Also, you stopped doing that thing with your tongue.” The ease with which she jarred his emotions two and fro was unsettling. It was like trying to ride an unbroken mount, all bucking chaos one moment, and placid as a foal the next. 

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to continue? and it’s not like we can talk with my ass on your face” she’d tried to lighten it, but there was real sincerity in her as she spoke her question. 

“the bite?” The bite was nothing, she couldn’t have harmed him if she was trying, but it was an easy thing to focus on. To rebalance.

She puffed up, reacting perfectly to the taunt “First of all, you set the biting precedence last time. I went through a tube of concealer covering your marks up. Expensive concealer. Secondly, it was barely a bite-”

“covered them?”

“-THIRDLY, I may have reacted in response to your little please-her-than-tease her routine last time. It’s not like I’m spent after one orgasm.” 

‘Then why did you leave?’ nearly left his lips. Not that it wasn’t a fair question, but it sounded far too much like...something more. “Do you have no appreciation for delayed gratification?”

“Not a lot. No.” She didn’t even hesitate

“I wanted you to make me cum with your mouth, then with your fingers, and then with your dick” she ticked them off on her fingers as she spoke.

Loki watched her head tilt as her fingers tapped a little staccato rhythm against his ribs “Unless of course, that’s asking too much?”

Loki nearly snorted “I’m doing this out of my unparalleled generosity, I’ve got nothing to prove to you.”

“Hmmm, maybe. I think you’re doing it because you like it. You like to show just how deserving you are of the nickname silver tongue. I think you like the way my thighs shake when I’m getting close. Like that you’re the one who made them shake.” 

Her voice was sweet as honey. So she could play seductress when she was so inclined, and quite effectively. Interesting.

“Generosity? I’d hate to think this is any kind of chore for you. If it is, I can always go. Believe it or not, I can get myself off unassisted. No need for you to be put out.” Now she was assuredly baiting him. He hated to reward insolence, but in this moment he liked proving her wrong more.

He did ‘that thing with his tongue’ and then he did a great deal more as his grip firmed on her bucking hips. Above him, he saw her lean to grip the headboard as her spine bowed. Her breasts still magnificent wrapped in lace. Why was that? She shivered as his hand traced up her spine deftly unhooking the bra one-handed. She let out a low sigh as the garment fell away, and he took that moment to spread her further exposing more sensitive flesh. As his tongue worked her over she began to tremble, her inner muscles undulating against his invading tongue. One of her hands fell from the headboard and tangled in his hair, her grip demanding. So she wanted him to finish the job, did she? As he circled her clit he absently wondered what she might do if he stopped, but he was feeling merciful. 

She cried out as she came “Loki!”

Loki had never been a beacon of humility, especially not when he enjoyed the sound of his name on her lips So. Very. Much.

The fingers that had tangled in his hair gently combed through the strands as she rose on still shaking thighs. She resettled on his stomach looking a little drunk as she traced swirling pattern across his chest. “Mmmm that was very nice, thank you” 

Loki watched her wobble slightly as she twisted to look at throbbing cock “oof, that looks uncomfortable. Let me see-“ She shimmied down his body till erection pressed against her slit. She rocked her hips back and forth, her slick cunt rubbing tantalizingly against his straining cock. Then ms. Lewis looked at him expectedly with half-lidded eyes. If she expected him to beg she was a fool.

“So, I’d like to ride your dick now if that’s cool” though her phrasing was about as alluring as a bilgesnipe’s mating cry, Loki still found himself quite in favor of the prospect. 

“You may”

She burst out laughing and dove into a fervent kiss. Holding his face gently she showered little kisses across his cheeks and brow “That you can sound that classy and polite with that all over your face is fucking spectacular” 

She popped a last little kiss on the tip of his nose before she pulled away and positioned herself atop his cock. She shot him a little smirk before taking him to the root in one perfectly agonizing motion. The abruptness of it forced a gasp from his lungs. The sensation of her warm slick body around him was perfection. She rocked her hips back and forth, barely raising off his length before taking him in fully again. She made contented little noises as she acclimated to the way he filled her. He felt the way her muscles still pulsed with the lingering effects of her orgasm and felt he might burst. Humility had never been his forte, self-control on the other hand came quite naturally to seasoned liars. He let her work up her pace, as she took him in again and again, till she set a steady rhythm. He watched her chest bounce with each thrust and felt his gut begin to tighten. She tilted her head down to look at him, dark locks cascading over her shoulders. Her hands slid from his shoulders down the length of his arms till she wrapped her fingers around his wrists. Drawing his hands up to her mouth to place a delicate kiss on his knuckles. She smiled and guided his hands lower to her flushed chest. 

“Play” and it was all the invitation he needed. 

Darcy squeaked as he rose in a fluid motion. One hand steadied her as the other came up to sweep her hair to the side exposing her neck. With a closer look, he could see where the thick cosmetics hid his marks. Darcy shivered as his magic swept across her skin to reveal the lingering little bruises, and her head leaned back with a moan. Oh, and wasn’t that a perfectly lovely sound? Loki slid his tongue across the newly exposed marks as one hand lowered to her flushed chest. At first, his touch was light, teasing, but as their pace began to quicken he let his hand grow firmer kneading the soft flesh of her breast. Her arms came to wrap around him and her embrace was so warm he wanted to burrow deeper into that feeling and never let go. His other arm came to wrap around her pinning their bodies together with the unyielding strength of a steel bar. She gasped, her hot breath against his shoulder and clutched him tighter. So tight, so soft, so blissfully wet around him. Loki’s self control waned, and he found himself picking up speed. He relentlessly thrust into her, fucking short gasps from her lungs with every stroke. Darcy rode him like she was made for it, working her own hips in time with his. She ran a clever tongue along the shell of his ear, and in a broken whisper-

“Cum for me Loki. Let go”

Curse her. His hips stuttered in their rhythm and his cock swelled with need. It was not long till he’d entirely spent himself, thickly coating her insides with his seed. He let himself fall back onto the bed pulling her down on top of him, not quite ready to be free of her embrace, her warmth. 

~~~

Okay, so post orgasm Loki was surprisingly snuggly. A bit firm for a body pillow, but Darcy wasn’t complaining. Just...surprised. Judging by his anaconda like grip she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, so she settled in, playing with the silky strands of hair at his temple. It was odd to see the way sweat made his hair cling to the skin of his neck. He was usually so neat, so pristine. It drew inky lines across his pale skin, the image was as striking as the rest of him. The longer they stayed that way the weirder Darcy felt. She had just dropped everything she was doing...supposed to be doing, to what? Bang Thor’s brother like a screen door in a hurricane? Cause he’d inadvertently quoted one of her favorite lines? She was still technically at work, afternoon delight was a strictly off-hours affair. Not that she had any predictable off-hours. Eureka moments do not abide by any schedule. It was weird. Darcy did one night stands OR ‘Relationships’, not a whole lot in between. Not that she had a huge amount of experience with the second. She could count the number of romantic relationships she’d been in on one hand, and if she was magically transformed into a two-toed sloth she’d still be able to count them on one hand. Now she was all gooey inside with postcoital hormones...and other things, because on top of everything else she’d gone bareback mr. God-of-passive-aggression-and-reaching-tall-shelves, and like hell she was going to be able to concentrate on anything the rest of the day. This is why we use our upstairs brain Darcy. 

Her downstairs brain helpfully reminded her that today’s questionable decision still had his dick very much inside her. Involuntarily her muscles clenched around the intrusion and she swore she could feel his cum all over her insides. She felt so slick and full and TOTALLY WEIRD. She squirmed and Loki made a noise under her gliding his hands down over her hips to grip her ass. Was he getting hard again? It had been what? Like two minutes!? Chill the fuck out dick of chaos. Give a girl a minute to think! 

Think.

thinkthinkthink 

Totally not distracted by the-Who the fuck even does that!? ‘Wow! Gee, thanks for the sex let me just use you as my personal cock warmer’ 

You know what? It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Darcy was a fucking adult who enjoyed orgasms. There was no reason one night stands couldn’t become one night, one afternoon stands! She’d just have to insist on a strictly off-hours policy because weirdness aside, she was not about to turn down any future offers from Loki to play hide the scepter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who enjoyed and commented on my lil’ oneshot! It’s so refreshing to openly discuss sex, it’s pretty strictly not spoken about where I’m from.
> 
> A few folks expressed interest in a continuation (MB, FeistyEpicurean, Lelliefant, Gyoro_and_Ururun, SillySparrow ), so I gave it my best shot. Guess it’s a twoshot now, just more smut, I wouldn’t even know where to begin trying to come up with a plot. I don’t typically write much (these were written entirely in my phone) but I had fun with the last one so I thought I’d give it another try. Turned out surprisingly giggly, and some feels may have snuck in while I wasn’t paying attention. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it! I had fun reading your comments


	3. and then there were three (chapters) and things got a lil gay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little bi, lesbi-honest have you SEEN Lady Loki? Darcy is about as straight as a Fibonacci spiral, it was bound to happen. For those of you not into F/F everything after “then I’m sure you’ll be perfectly satisfied without it.” probably ain’t your cup o’ tea.

It took all of Darcy’s self-control to not squirm. She wasn’t even sure if he was doing it on purpose, but Loki still had her firmly pinned in more ways then one. Gaah! Don’t think about it! But trying not to think about it only made her more aware of the persistent fullness low in her belly and that was not helping with the whole ‘no squirming’ plan. Whether or not it was a conscious action his arms still felt heavy as lead across her back. She wondered what the hell he was even made of!? Was it an Asgardian thing...or not Asgardian, yo-something? an alien thing? An unwelcome thought of Thor and Jane floated into Darcy’s head. Loki was a slim dude, what must Thor weigh? Oh Janey! Oh dear tiny delicate Jane! She hadn’t meant to think of her friend/boss in that light...she REALLY hadn’t, but the inappropriateness and bizarreness of her own situation had laughter bubbling up in her before she could stop it. 

Beneath her, Loki groaned “Something amusing ms. Lewis?”

Nope. There was no way in hell she was going to say the ‘Thor’ word while half wrapped up in his intermittently unhinged brother. Not fucking likely. “nope.”

“Hn, I had hoped you’d have enough sense not to attempt lying to me.” ‘Hn’, indeed. He was awfully snooty for someone with sex hair. 

“You are severely overestimating my capacity for common sense. I mean, considering I hopped into bed with you, it’s safe to say ‘wise decision making’ is not one of my defining qualities. Besides, I think we’re better off if I don’t share with the class.” ie. I pinky promise you really really don’t want to know what I was thinking. 

“You do realize you’re insulting yourself far more than me.”

Uh yeah, self-deprecating was kinda her schtick, considering self-aggrandizing around literal gods and superheroes is just depressing “Deliberate highness, I’d hate to risk wounding your princely ego. While I’m on the subject, you might want to think about relocating yours. Could give a girl the wrong idea if you keep that up.”

“On the contrary, I think it’s a splendid idea.” oh, so Loki was up (snort, she’d had nonverbal confirmation of that for a while) for a round two was he? Darcy’s downstairs brain enthusiastically agreed! Her upstairs brain, on the other hand, was still a teeny tiny bit irritated at him. 

“Vagina dentata?” Dear lord why was her brain like this!? Think. Before. Speaking. God. Dammit. She worked with rocket scientists for crying out loud!!

“What?”

“What? Ha, nothing.”

“Woman you are deranged.” well...he wasn’t wrong, but this was truly a ‘pot calling the kettle black’ moment of epic proportions.

“As well as horny and progressively more sexually frustrated. Were you planning on doing something?” Darcy planted her palms on his chest and tried to leverage herself up, but Loki’s hold kept her from any real progress “cause if not I’d appreciate it if you could release my ass from custody, it’s kinda hard to move.”

“Really?” Loki’s lip curled into a wicked smirk before he rolled his hips, igniting all kinds of feelings in her clearly bonkers downstairs brain “I don’t seem to be having any trouble.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” cause bloody hell he was, leaving would be so much easier if he was ugly and bad at sex.

“Cute?” He looked at her like ‘cute’ was some kind of grave insult on Asgard, which she was 78% sure it wasn’t but whatever.

“Right, okay, not cute. How about devastating?” Maybe some ego-stroking would chill out the murderous look currently taking residence on his face. A girl could hope. 

Darcy let herself sink back onto his chest burying her face in the crook of his neck ”From your silver tongue to your magical hands. Confession: I love these.” 

Her hands glided down his arms to where his palms still rested on her back, interlacing their fingers and dragging one hand up to reach her lips so she could lay a delicate kiss on his knuckles “Absolutely perfect.”

When she met his eyes again they were full of intent. The thin ring of emerald around his wide pupils unnaturally bright in the dim room “And the rest?” 

Her answering laugh was muffled against his hand, not even bothering to hold it back “Gee fishing for compliments? You’d think me cumming on your face would be enough of a confirmation that I am indeed into this”

Loki huffed. 

“-timing is less than ideal, but that’s just poor impulse control on my part” The hand still at her back slid lower snaking between her thighs before teasingly stroking where their bodies were still joined. Darcy bit off a groan “fuck I love your hands”

His hand grew bolder teasing her folds, still slick from their earlier activity “And my cock?”

Darcy wasn’t thinking quite straight, a little too distracted by the growing heat curling up her spine “Nice bonus?” It was a nice cock. 

“Nice?” Uh oh, “Nice?” Big uh oh “Ms. Lewis did you not just speak to the importance of not wounding my ‘princely ego’” Loki’s tone was even but his hand stilled and Darcy found herself quickly graduating from ‘uh oh’ to ‘oh shit’ 

“How quickly you forget, then I’m sure you’ll be perfectly satisfied without it.” 

Darcy wasn’t sure what she had been expecting but the near-instantaneous transformation and sudden lack of fullness were about as far from any prediction she could’ve made as she could possibly imagine. 

Loki was beautiful to begin with, but this Loki was otherworldly, she had a beckoning sort of loveliness, like a mirror smooth lake reflecting the sky in perfect detail. Pristine glowing skin softer than anything she’d felt. It wasn’t an illusion, everyplace their skin touched impossibly real but undeniably new. Every sharp edge honed into perfect graceful curves. It was still Loki through and through, just a Loki Darcy had never seen before, and she was breathtaking. 

Now Darcy had never considered herself strictly straight, it’s just that guys were always easier. They usually came to her with one thing in mind and hey, for the purposes of meaningless casual sex it worked. It was straightforward, predictable, easy. She always found her self intimidated by the thought of approaching another woman. It put her in the position to be rejected, or perhaps more frightening, for them to want more from her then she was capable of giving. She didn’t have the experience to know how things worked between two women, what to expect. Maybe that made her a coward, but to Darcy sex was supposed to be easy. She liked things uncomplicated. 

In a way this was perfect. Loki and her already had a bit of a rapport. Granted, having sex twice did not a ‘fuck buddy’ make, but he was there for the same reason she was. For as complicated as Loki typically was, this, Whatever it was, was simple. Darcy looked at this new Loki, with her graceful athletic curves and hair like a river of black silk, and felt like Christmas had come early. She kissed Loki deeply taking her time to explore these new lips, a bit fuller and softer than the ones she had grown familiar with. Loki still tasted the same, but the way her body felt pressed to hers was brand new. Loki broke the kiss to take a breath and Darcy marveled at the way her soft chest pressed against her as it expanded. Her breasts were smaller than Darcy’s but pressed so close It was hard to appreciate the nuance of their differences. Darcy wiggled her way down so she could explore the details of Loki’s chest more thoroughly, with her mouth. She licked a stripe up the valley between her breasts, tracing her sternum all the way up to her collar bones before peppering delicate kisses atop each breast. Darcy had touched her own chest plenty, knew the sensations she could draw out, and she desperately wanted to see what she could make Loki feel. Wanted to see her gasp and shiver at her touch. 

Darcy wrapped her lips around one nipple and she gently traced her thumb along the underside of her other breast. She felt Loki take a sharp breath as her tongue rasped against the sensitive peak. Loki’s arms were looser now and Darcy took the opportunity to shift, moving one thigh to slip between Loki’s long legs. Gently pressing her thigh up to meet her slick sex. It was all so new, the soft velveteen of her skin, the way their curves fit together, more yielding than anything Darcy had experienced with a man. Darcy rubbed her thigh harder spreading Loki’s slick arousal on her skin. Loki moaned, and the sound was as novel, as beautiful as the rest of this stunning turn of events. Darcy was intoxicated. 

“Ms. Lewis?” Loki’s voice was perfect. Rich with a barely there sort of rasp that bordered on hypnotic. 

“You’re beautiful.”

Darcy wasn’t sure if she could name the expression that flitted across Loki’s features. Somehow simultaneously smug and affronted, as if to say ‘did you expect anything less?’ It was kind of surreal laying there, legs tangled up with possibly one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen. She lived in the same building as Natasha freaking Romanoff! Had met Pepper Potts! Hell, Jane could’ve modeled for vogue if she had any interest outside of SCIENCE. Darcy wasn’t sure if it was just novelty, or if there was some subtle magic that set Loki’s beauty apart, but in this moment she didn’t care. This gave whole new meaning to the phrase ‘getting lucky’, and she sure as shit did not plan on wasting the opportunity. 

“I want to touch you.” Wow, what a fountain of eloquence. This firmly put Loki in the category of ‘stupid hot’ because Darcy was having a hard time using words good.

Loki’s smile was deliciously teasing “You are touching me.”

Darcy rolled her eyes “I want to touch you more. A lot.” 

Loki huffed a quiet laugh and spread her arms wide in invitation, quirking a brow that said ‘well, what are you waiting for?’

Darcy dove back into her exploration of Loki’s new form with fervor. Keenly attuned to every sound, every gasp, tremble, and flush, awakened by her touch. She wanted to see Loki undone, her expression when she finally let go and surrendered to pleasure. She lavished kisses along the column of her neck as she traced a hand down her abdomen. The light touch of her nails raising goosebumps on Loki’s skin. Her mouth soon followed the path of her hand. Stopping to teasingly dip her tongue into Loki’s navel. She watched her stomach muscles jump at the sensation and felt her spine arch off the bed. Darcy took the opportunity to slip a hand beneath her back and trace gentle caresses along the base of her spine. The sounds Loki made were restrained but undeniably erotic, but Darcy wanted more. She spread Loki’s thighs, taking a moment to appreciate the lithe muscle and alabaster skin before kissing a path down her inner thigh to Loki’s glistening center. 

Darcy had never eaten pussy before so she took her cues from her most recent experiences with Loki. It wasn’t long before she could feel Loki’s thighs begin to shake. She refocused her attention on her clitoris, smoothly slipping two fingers in to curl against her g-spot. One of Loki’s knees jerked up sharply as Darcy heard her gasp suddenly. She felt her inner muscles clench and spasm around her digits and felt rather accomplished. Still, Darcy was a little bummed that she hadn’t been able to see the expression on Loki’s face while she climaxed. As she crawled up Loki’s body she admired the rosy flush across her heaving chest. She kissed Loki’s neck and interwove their fingers. 

“Again?” Darcy nudged the underside of Loki’s jaw and wondered if she had even heard her. 

Loki sighed as Darcy gently ran her tongue along the shell of her ear. “Do you have another one in you?” Darcy grinned as she placed another kiss lightly on Loki’s temple “cause I really want to see your o-face.”

“My what?” 

“The expression you make when you climax.” Darcy elaborated.

“Woman you are incorrigible.”

Darcy traced her fingers along Loki’s dripping slit “Mm hmm, and if I said pretty please?” 

“Well, I suppose there's no arguing with that, have your wicked way with me ms. Lewis. I’m powerless to your charms.” 

“I’m hearing sarcasm, but your grip on my fingers feels pretty sincere.” Loki managed to make even rolling her eyes look sophisticated, before she snaked her hand around the back of Darcy’s neck and dragged her in for a kiss. 

As it turns out Lady Loki’s o-face was pretty fucking magical and Darcy found she took great pleasure in being the cause of it. It was hours later when she finally remembered she had actual work to do and had to drag herself away from Loki’s languid, sweat slicked, perfectly flushed body. 

It was a goddamn herculean effort. 

Her voice was a bare whisper when in came out “hey,” she kissed Loki’s shoulder “I gotta go, but this was super fun” Darcy gave into temptation and sealed her lips against Loki’s once more “You’re fun, thank you Loki.” 

And with that, she slipped out of Loki’s quarters and back to the dreaded pile of paperwork still waiting for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’ve never written F/F before, mostly because having distinct pronouns makes it way easier to quickly differentiate characters. Also, I read quite a bit more F/M by virtue of sheer abundance, so F/F feels a little unfamiliar. However, given that I’m equally unversed in all the sex, I thought it would be fun to explore. Hopefully, I did okay. Also, Lady Loki and Darcy getting into mischief together is way too cute to pass up. Please leave a comment, it’s been super fun and encouraging reading them, from both a writing and sex-positive-overcoming-a-lifetime-of-weird-puritanical-stigma standpoint.


	4. Four S's and a bad pun

Loki stared at the ceiling irritatingly Perplexed at the incomprehensible ms. Lewis. Who had once again, against all odds, managed to leave her rather speechless. Pleasantly so, ms. Lewis’ reaction to her transformation had been unexpected but undeniably pleasurable, it was the mere precedence that she could do so that was unsettling. It was odd to be on the receiving end, to have someone thoroughly have their way with you and then galavant off the moment they were sated. Loki’d done the same on many occasions. Had even done so in this feminine form. She wondered how those past partners had reacted. It wasn’t as if there’d been any cause for Darcy to stay. There was no real reason her absence should chafe Loki to such a degree, but ms. Lewis was hardly the only variable to take into consideration. 

Loki observed her form. When was the last time she taken it? Before now she’d always had a clear motive to do so. Being a woman offered advantages, flexibility in certain situations. She’d only opted to take this form when it gave her an edge or if there was some prime mischief to be had. Loki supposed that’s why she’d done it, to see how ms. Lewis would react. However, the mischief that ensued had not been the sort she’d expected. She’d expected shock, perhaps a spark of fear, flustered at the very least. She had not anticipated being thoroughly ravished by the woman atop her. Yet another surprise, for all her years she’d never actually been with a woman, as a woman. That was a bit of a revelation in itself. There was an age Loki had been sexually prolific, sampled nearly every carnal pleasure to be had across the nine realms, but not all apparently. 

This form was different in many ways. More sensitive, it had been so long since she’d taken it that her skin felt new, vulnerable and completely unprepared for the onslaught of sensations of Da- ms. Lewis’ touch. It’s not as if she’d been a remarkable lover, it was clear to Loki that she’d never been with a woman. Her technique was unpracticed, though she had made up for it somewhat with sheer enthusiasm. It was the novelty of the act, the sensitivity of this form, and ms. Lewis’ unwavering refusal to react predictably that had Loki unsettled and nothing more. 

Loki sighed, and as the postcoital haze faded she let the transformation melt away and returned to his masculine form. Unbidden, the memory of ms. Lewis’ reaction surfaced and Loki wondered if perhaps she preferred women? Not that it mattered, one of the advantages of shapeshifting was that you could be anything to anyone. 

~~~

Darcy quickly showered before returning to her paperwork, which she managed to finish despite being in a bit of a daze. That just happened. THAT! With her!? Holy crap. She left the task of processing that little nugget for a later time as she muddled her papers into a relatively stable stack and made her way down to the labs. 

She found Jane clinging to consciousness, eyes glued to one of Starks's ridiculous translucent screens. Darcy didn’t get it. Wasn’t it distracting seeing everything behind the screen? Then again, she supposed for a man clearly suffering PTSD being able to see everything all the time might have its appeal. Which was way too heavy to think about at the moment, and Darcy really didn’t need those kinds of thoughts killing her vibe. Life was good. Darcy was employed, had stable -super posh- housing, had finally made progress eliminating some of her student debt, and on top of everything else she just had some pretty bomb sex. Even if Jane still stubbornly refused to adhere to anything resembling a proper circadian rhythm. Life was still pretty damn good.

“Jane, babe, I’m calling it. By my count, it’s been at least 48 hours since you last slept, and we both know after 32 hours your calculations have the tendency to go a bit squibby.” She nudged the immobile scientist’s shoulder.

Jane protested weakly “nuu, ‘arcy I jus n-” 

“Nope.” Darcy hoisted Jane into a limp bridal carry “Upsey Daisy. Oof, Jane I say this with love but you need a shower like yesterday.” 

Jane grumbled quietly as they entered the hallway. 

“I’m serious, you’ve crossed the line of adorably disheveled and yer quickly approaching swamp hag territory. It ain’t cute.” 

“Nn” The tiny scientist was barely conscious by this point and Darcy had to do a bit of maneuvering to open the door to Jane’s apartment herself. 

She plopped Jane gently on the bed yanking off her shoes while her feet still hung off the edge of the mattress. “Also, it should not be this easy to carry you. Lose one more pound and I swear to god I’ll get Thor to drag you to a feast or some other gluttonous nonsense.”

Jane’s “G’night” came out muffled by her pillow and Darcy rearranged things slightly so she wouldn’t smother herself in her sleep. Jane hadn’t been quite so bad before they moved to the Tower. The limitations of their past set up, the iffy power grid, and finicky equipment prone to overheating, had forced Jane to step away from her work periodically and sleep like a normal human. But in Stark’s facility every piece of equipment was top-of-the-line, and barring any super villain attacks there was no risk of any electrical blackout. Which had the unfortunate side effect of making Jane cling to her work like a stubborn little barnacle, to a genuinely unhealthy degree.

“Well, we’re into the AM already, but I appreciate the sentiment. Goodnight Janey.” Darcy slipped out mindful to close the door as quietly as humanly possible. 

Darcy debated getting some shut-eye of her own, but found she was hardly even tired. Her stomach grumbled providing a helpful answer to the question of what to do next. She was in the mood for something nice and toasty. She wracked her brain for recipes.

CINNAMON ROLLS!

Hot damn she was good. Yup, life on the whole was surprisingly just fine. 

Darcy squirreled away to the main kitchen and began gathering ingredients. As she worked the dough she tried to not zone out too much thinking about Loki in all his sexy incarnations. Holy cannoli she’d actually done THAT! She flushed and kneaded the dough harder. 

“Does that dough owe you money?” 

Darcy snorted, and wiggled her eyebrows at Tony, who leaned against the entrance to the kitchen “does it owe me dough?”

Tony buried his face in one hand, massaging his temples with his thumb and forefinger “Goddamnit I walked right into that one, you’re terrible.” 

She cackled at the long suffering look he shot her and his glare intensified before his eyes suddenly went wide. 

“Jesus Lewis! What happened to your neck?” 

Darcy quirked her head, confused for a moment before realizing what he was probably staring at. She hadn’t bothered to check the aftermath of her time with Loki, but she could guess given his vampiric tendencies, that it was probably pretty bad. 

“Anthony I’m shocked,” she drew her floury hand to her chest in mock affront “I’d thought you of all people would be pretty familiar with what a hickey looks like.” 

“That’s not a hickey.” That bad, huh? Fucking Loki, She was not spending another thirty freaking dollars on the only fancy ass brand of concealer that actually worked on her! 

“Hell, you look like you’ve been mauled!” He gesticulated wildly at her neck, dude really had a flair for the dramatic.

Darcy laughed. To be fair, she’d done the majority of the mauling. She was just way easier to bruise. 

“So, any vamp I know?” How he managed to wear lascivious and curious in the same expression at six in the morning was a goddamn mystery.

“Nuh-uh, you don’t get to hear stories of my sexcapades after you pun-shame me. Besides, if you were genuinely curious you could use that big pulsating brain your always bragging about to figure it out all on your own.”

“Ugh, Never say pulsating in the kitchen… in fact, never say pulsating again. It’s a terrible terrible word and I hate it.”

“Fine. Throbbing.”

Tony made a retching face that had no business being on a grown man “Gaah!? No! Woman, you are the worst.”

She tucked the edges of the dough under, stretching the surface into a taught dome, and dropped it into a greased bowl. “Tony, people who hurt my feelings don’t get cinnamon rolls.” Primly covering the dough with kitchen cloth before starting on the filling.

“Oh… You misunderstand me. I mean to say that you’re a wildly accomplished woman, and if making me uncomfortable was an Olympic sport you’d be the GOAT. The Michael Phelps of making me wish that working with heavy machinery and blasting AC/DC actually had destroyed my hearing.” 

She glared at him from where she was crouched in front of the fridge. Why a group of super-fit badasses with ridiculous metabolisms had godforsaken margarine was beyond her. She dug deeper looking for some proper butter “...this is you trying not to hurt my feelings?” 

She bit her tongue as she watched Tony attempt to backpedal “Listen, Darcy, babe! I’m a mechanic, I’m bad at squishy things. Just tell me what I have to do to get a cinnamon roll.” 

“Mmm lemme think.” She tried not to break into a maniacal grin as a deliciously cruel idea formulated in her mind. 

“Oooh, I’ve got it! 100K to women in Psychology scholarships, and you have to call it the ‘Stark Sucks at Squishy Scholarship Program’. SSSSP for short.” She paused in thought and tapped her lip before announcing the cherry on top “Aaand it’s gotta have a purple snake as it’s mascot!”

Stark looked at her like she’d grown a second head and it was spinning around exorcist style “Do scholarships even have mascots?” He rubbed his hand over his face again and released a defeated sigh “Do me a favor and promise to never join the dark side. You know too much, and the way your mind works frightens me.”

From him, that was almost flattering “Aww, I love you too Tony.” 

“But I gotta tell you, the cinnamon rolls won’t be ready for a while, the yeast has to wake up first.” 

“They better be worth it!” Tony shouted his parting shot as he strut out of the kitchen. 

“And you’re designing the mascot! I ain’t hiring a graphic designer for you. You tiny sadist!” Ooh, he was really gonna regret giving her ideas. Images of adorable snakes coiled up like little cinnamon rolls floated into her head. Darcy burst out laughing and found it difficult to stop. She was curled over with tears pricking the corners of her eyes by the time she could finally take a breath. Fucking rich people! Wait, was he serious? 

~~~ 

When Loki encountered ms. Lewis again he found her In the corner of the main kitchen surrounded by a flurry of sticky notes. He found the kitchen unusually populated, Given that few of the ‘avengers’ did much cooking. The air was filled with the warm scent of spice, caramelized sugar, and rich freshly baked bread. 

“Brother! I’m afraid you’ve come too late, had I known you intended to join us I would have endeavored to preserve one of Darcys delightful cinnabon’s for you.” Thor failed to look contrite as he licked some sticky substance off his fingers.

Ms. Lewis cut in without looking up from her scribblings “Dude, forget what Hawkbutt said, he's just spent way too much time at airports. That shit is trademarked, those were just regular cinnamon rolls.”

“Bullshit!” Loki watched Stark slam a tumbler full of blackish green liquid on the counter, glaring at first Thor then Captain Rogers “These were the most expensive cinnamon rolls in the history of cinnamon rolls. Over 4K a piece. Why I shared them with you gluttons is a mystery.”

Rogers was slightly more successful at appearing contrite, flushing a bit at Tony’s scorn “Sharing is caring.”

“Oh, did the founder of SSSSP tell ya that Rogers? I only got two before you all got here and demolished them! I’m surrounded by human garbage disposals!”

Loki surveyed the empty pans, the few scraps that remained smelled divine “I wasn’t aware baked goods could be so valuable.” 

“Go ask ms. SSSSP over there how I got robbed via sticky bun!” ms. Lewis grinned impishly, twirling her pen before shoving it behind one ear and addressing Stark. 

It was hardly chaos, but Loki couldn’t help but admire the girl. She cleary had a knack for toying with people “Well excuse me! Maybe if you hadn’t called me ‘the worst’ or the ‘GOAT of making you uncomfortable’ I wouldn’t have gone asking for a little compensation.” 

Thor looked between Stark and Lewis, affronted “He called you a goat?”

She let out a very unladylike snort, before elaborating “Greatest Of All Time, GOAT.” 

Loki drifted closer to her, delicately pulling one of the many sticky notes from the mess. On it, there were a number of what appeared to be snakes, but their eyes were bizarrely large and shiny, framed by absurdly long eyelashes “What’s this?”

She glanced up at him a little self-satisfied smirk on her lips “You likey? It’s the mascot of SSSSP, see she’s a lil’ snake but curled up like a cinnamon roll. Cute right?”

“Snakes don’t have eyelashes.”

“Eyelash vipers do.” She huffed, rolling her eyes at him “Besides, that’s not the point. It’s just supposed to be pretty and cute...and fulfill my desire for ssssinnamon roll puns.”

“Hmm.” because what could he say to that? Every time he turned around she seemed to reach new heights of absurdity. 

Without thinking Loki plucked the pen from behind her ear and took the small pad of paper. He found he didn’t care for modern ballpoint pens. They demanded a heavier hand to force the ink to flow than a proper pen. Still, the forms were simple enough that even a rather crude writing instrument posed no issue. “Something like this?”

Darcy plucked the sketch from his hand, gawking at it “You’re kidding me! You can draw too? Is this a thing with you? Do you have to be good at everything? Damn! That’s actually elegant AF.”

She continued to stare at the little picture before turning to look at him “Sooo, can I use this?”

Use it? It was nothing. Then again compared to her childish drawings perhaps it wasn't. “It serves no purpose to me.”

“I’m going to go ahead and assume that’s the Loki brand passive-aggressive version of ‘sure’.” She could assume whatever she liked, it made no difference to him. Loki sauntered out of the kitchen, mildly annoyed that the only food worth having was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shockingly devoid of smut. I hope that doesn’t come as too great a disappointment. This just kinda popped into my head, and it felt like the last chapter was maybe a bit short.


	5. Still alive!

Darcy couldn’t necessarily consider her and Loki ‘fuck buddies’, because for as bad as it might sound, she didn’t know that she could really call Loki a friend. Outside of sex they barely interacted. Most of what she knew about him came from Thor, mythology (what was her life?) and a briefing packet, and she was pretty sure everything he knew about her probably had to do with her erogenous zones and how flexible she could be given the right incentive. There was a nasty little voice in her head, the one that still yammered on about ‘sitting like a lady’, that nagged how cheap and classless she was for getting down on the reg with a man she hardly even spoke to. Darcy had to remind herself that voice had never belonged to her. It was just the echos of every self-righteous puritanical asshole who assumed big tits and red lips made her a dumb slut. She figured getting her rocks off however she fucking liked was as good a metaphorical middle finger to those shitbiscuits as any. 

In the weeks since their unorthodox beginning, things had developed rapidly, and Darcy was living her best sex life ever. There was a time when she would have thought fucking damn near every other day was overkill. Turns out, she’d just been fucking the wrong people, cause Loki was...Well, he was Loki. A relentless, observant, methodical, wickedly creative perfectionist, and apparently a bit pent up, if the way he sought her out was any indication. She hadn’t initiated since that first meeting, hadn’t needed to. He’d find her and stroll up with a smirk and some meaningful eye contact, offer a perfectly princely hand and...and well the rest could get a bit muddled because he was exceptionally skilled at fucking her brains out. Turns out the second prince of Asgard was not above a booty call, even if he did go about it with royal finesse. 

~~~

Darcy had been caught in the middle of a not so sanctioned shield deep dive. She wasn’t actually breaking any rules, despite literal miles of paperwork, some of their wording still left room for interpretation. She might not look it, but as a scholar of political science, she basically had a black belt in bureaucracy. Shield may not believe in government transparency but Darcy took a certain amount of pride in holding people accountable... not just because she enjoyed ruffling Fury’s feathers. Still, she slapped her laptop closed in what was totally not a guilty-looking move when Loki snuck up on her. 

She kinda wanted to march over and flick his smug face when she caught the knowing look in his eyes, but she also wanted to keep all of her fingers “So Ms. Lewis, would this be an ideal time?”

“Huh?” ...the hell was he talking about? Darcy searched her mildly flustered brain scrambling for context “Oh right! That’s actually super courteous of you to ask” 

Loki shifted his weight and looked down his nose at her, adopting what she thought was a supremely sassy pose. “I am a prince.”

Darcy bit her lip and prayed she didn’t look like she was about to burst into a fit of giggles. It wasn’t her fault! Jumpy Darcy was statistically way more prone to shoving her foot straight in her mouth. “You know, somehow that still manages to slip my mind occasionally. To be fair, monarchies are way less of a thing then they were last time y’all decided to visit.” Y’ALL? seriously Darcy? Though the face he made was nearly worth it, IF she and her big mouth managed to survive this conversation, that is. 

“True enough, it also appears decorum ‘is less of a thing’” Darcy could hear the air quotes, fancy-ass calligraphy air quotes “since I last graced this world with my presence.”

“Wow, okay, no on so many levels there your majesty. Sure, language has grown progressively less formal, but humanity as a whole has made a whole lotta progress in the not exchanging women as property, and basic hygiene arena. As well as a bunch of other stuff. Granted, less progress then ideal. There are still a lot of racist misogynistic assfaces out there, abusing more power then they have any right to, but I’m not about to pretend that things were more civilized back when folks waited a few years to give their child a name because infant mortality was so ridiculously common.” Darcy bit the inside of her cheek. So maybe arguing the merits of humanity with a dude who considered them less than ants was not the brightest idea, but she couldn’t help but feel obligated to defend her species. Also, if you overlooked the fact that Loki was borderline terrifying (which was way WAY too easy for Darcy to do) he was kind of fun to argue with. Not that they were arguing, but she could extrapolate. As well as get super sidetracked. Why was he talking to her again? 

Oh right, ‘ideal timing’, low-key smolder, knowing look, yadda yadda. What other reason could he possibly have for talking to her? Outside of sexy time (arguably most of the time was at least a lil’ sexy when Loki was around cause he was fine as hell, but that’s beside the point) he’d exchanged around 17 words with her.  
  
“…I have the tendency to get sidetracked. To your earlier question, now is as good a time as any. Why? You wanna play?” Darcy wiggled her eyebrows suggestively for maximum effect. 

And was rewarded with a tiny blink-and-you’ll-miss-it amused smile “That was my intention, yes. Though you seem to be ahead in the game.”

Oho? Darcy knew Loki was competitive but hadn’t imagined it extended to sex as well “I wasn’t aware we were keeping score.”

Loki’s next smile had Darcy’s insides doing funny things “Always ms. Lewis.”

Darcy stretched, arching her back as she rose from her chair before she sauntered across the room to come face to chest with him. She had to lean her head back a bit to meet his eyes “Well if that’s the case, you should know this is a game I am perfectly content to let you win.”

Loki lifted an imperious brow “Only content?”

Darcy snickered softly as she toyed with the collar of his shirt. “Extremely content.”

“My dear ms. Lewis, you should know that I’m not satisfied with anything short of excellence.” Loki’s arms snaked around her, one tracing a path teasingly down her spine “If you’re merely ‘content’ I haven’t done my due diligence and must insist we remedy that post-haste.” 

“but of course, your eminence” Darcy couldn’t maintain her faux courtly facade as he effortlessly swept her up into his arms and his magic danced across her skin. 

Loki placed her on his bed, his hands lingering just long enough to tease his fingers across the back of her knee. Darcy found herself a little entranced as he pulled away to stand before her, clever hands deftly unfastening his shirt. It was an understated sort of striptease, it could be this was just the way he undressed, but his sinuous movement and the calculated reveal of perfect pale skin told Darcy he was putting on a show. Loki was a natural showman even here, the soft intimate lighting of his bedroom beautifully highlighted the elegant planes of his chest. So she relaxed back on her elbows and let her eyes wander from the bony sweep of his clavicle down the lean muscled lines of his arms. When his beautiful hands drew her attention to the sinful V of his abdominals as he unfastened his pants Darcy felt heat flare to life within her. Almost too soon he stood before her completely bare and it struck Darcy she should probably be getting naked too. She reached to unzip her hoodie and jumped a bit when he stopped her. The look in his eyes was pure hunger as he guided her hands back down to the mattress and began to strip her. Sure hands glided down her arms as he pulled them free of her sleeves, and she couldn’t repress a shiver as she felt his graceful fingers as they snuck beneath the hem of her shirt ghosting along the length of her torso as he pulled her simple t-shirt off. She felt his groan as his body pressed hers down into the mattress. His face buried in the soft juncture of her neck and shoulder. It was a surprisingly low sound and she was hyper-aware of every place their bodies met as the sound resonated through his chest and into her. She felt her nipples harden within the confines of her bra and clenched her thighs together in an effort to quiet the growing ache. Her skin broke out in goosebumps as his body pulled away from hers. The air of the room suddenly too cool in comparison to the intoxicating press of his body heat. She admired his form as he moved down her body. Her breath caught in her chest as he ran his thumb along where her thighs pressed together, then up to press the seam of her jeans against where she grew wetter for his touch by the moment. The sound of her zipper slowly descending was sweet torture. Darcy half wanted him to just rip the rest off and fuck her already, but how many times had that been the way? Clothes impatiently discarded in favor of the main event. This was new, she felt like something precious being unwrapped. Something to be savored. She felt his hot mouth against her thigh as he pulled away her jeans inch by inch. Darcy was surprised at how naked she felt still in her bra and panties. He’d already seen everything, but here and now still wrapped in simple Cotten underthings she felt shockingly exposed. She watched him admire his handy work and wondered what he was smirking about when she remembered that this bra clasped at the front.

“Convenient.” he undid the simple clasp, grazing his fingertips along the valley between her breasts. 

Darcy was all too aware of how much her chest bounced and shook as she laughed, especially now that they were free of their confines. Even more amusing was how Loki’s eyes were momentarily glued to her chest, seemingly hypnotized.

“Has anyone ever told you you laugh too much?” She felt the warmth of his hands as they cupped her breasts.  
  
He’d called it a game, so she didn’t hesitate to meet the challenge in his eyes “Yes, and they’ve all been wrong.”

“Is that so?” One of his thumbs inched closer to her sensitive nipples, but she still held his gaze.

“Music and laughter have kept me alive this long, I don’t plan on stopping any time soon.”

Loki descended on her and flicked his tongue across the sensitive peak. “A man of lower caliber might be put off, being laughed at in the bedchamber.” She could feel the heat of his breath against her skin and longed for him to do more. 

She laced her fingers through his hair curling them at the base of his skull and turning his head to face her “As far as I’m aware, there’s no such man here.” Then guided him to her other breast before pressing her nipple to his lips.

She felt the wet heat of his mouth encompass her. His hands grew bolder, massaging her soft flesh with perfectly calculated pressure. His teeth delicately tugged on her aching nub, just hard enough to draw a whimper from her before he pulled his mouth away “Astute, ms. Lewis.”

Darcy’s thigh muscles twitched as his right hand slid into her panties. He didn’t linger where she needed his touch most, instead, he simply dragged the dampened fabric down her legs. Then she was as bare as he was. She eyed his impressive erection, more than ready to feel it press into her and fill the growing void that pulsed within her. Darcy parted her thighs in invitation, and was shocked when he pulled away and circled her to sit at the head of the bed. He patted the space between his parted legs and looked at her expectantly. The look said ‘come here’ and ‘sit’. Darcy had half a mind to tell him she was not a dog and ask him where the heck he was going with all this. Instead, she huffed and lightly flicked his ankle as she crawled across the bed to him. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but satisfaction brought her back.

“With your back to me, if you will.” 

‘If you will’ it would probably kill him to say please to a mere mortal, but a few centuries of old fashioned manners had a funny way of showing themselves. Darcy shrugged and plopped down in front of him. Who knows? Maybe he wanted to start a sexy braid train.  
  
Loki wrapped and arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him. She had to crane her neck a bit to look at him and found he was looking down at her. “Do I amuse you?”

“Mostly, you confuse me. I amuse myself.”

“By toying with me to your heart's content just to satisfy your desire to see my expression as I climax?”

Oh, she had kinda done that, hadn’t she? In this position, it was hard to get a good look at him. Granted, looking at him wouldn’t do much good. The man was a born liar. Was Loki mad? “Amuse is the understatement of the year. That was actually pretty amazing. My first time with another gir-I mean woman. I guess I got a bit carried away. Too much?”

“Nothing of the sort ms. Lewis,” Loki dragged a hand up her leg hooking behind one knee and lifting it so her heel rested on the outside of his extended legs. “I appreciate your devotion to the pursuit of my pleasure.” he did the same to her other leg, before raising his knees in a way that spread her thighs further apart and made it very difficult to close them “in fact, I fully intend to return the favor.”

Loki’s other hand slid beneath her chin and lifted her face to see across the room where mounted above a chest of drawers was a large mirror. “Tell me ms. Lewis, how familiar are you with your ‘o-face’?”

“Oh”  
  
Loki grinned, pure mischief “Not that one ms. Lewis, allow me to clarify.” 

Darcy stared at their reflection. At the way his slim body still somehow dwarfed hers. how his long limbs coiled around her. The deceptive strength of his elegant hands. The way his smile was accented by his subtlety pronounced canines. She’d laughed at his vampiric tendencies, but she realized now she had been wrong. Everything from the way he wrapped himself around her, to his ever-observant eyes. He was pure serpent, and the way he looked at her now made her feel like prey. Darcy shivered at the reminder that this was not some cute boy from work she was screwing around with. She was fucking with a man who thought himself a god, his power may have been diminished by Odin’s bindings, but even now compared to her he might as well be. Her blood surged in her veins, slightly dizzy with the realization. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating, in the way that only the things you knew you should not do could be. She felt the pulsing heat of his length pressed against her back, the soft caress of his lips on her neck, and knew with a giddy sort of certainty that she was already in way over her head. Might as well enjoy the ride while it lasts. Darcy let herself lean back and watched Loki’s hand slither down her body to her burning core.

~~~

Darcy flushed crimson at the memory, and that had only been the third time! She turned up her music as if that could somehow distract her from the plethora of naughty things Loki had planted in her brain and bounced around the lab returning to her tasks with somewhat forced vigor. However, it only took half a playlist for her to find her groove again and the chaos of the lab was slowly but surely returned to a state of blessed organization. She triple checked the calibration on Jane’s recording instruments, double checked the temperatures of Bruce’s samples, then turned to face the last great hurdle: her own desk. It looked a bit like a sad diorama of the great San Francisco earthquake, constructed almost entirely of paper and sticky note labeled hard drives, because she’d learned from experience (and shield being a bunch of MIB thieving sneaks) that there was no such thing as too many backups, especially small, well encrypted, easily concealable backups. It wasn’t paranoia if it was based on fact. Darcy switched up her music settling into some old school R&B, a little bit corny but no one was here to judge her and began to chip away at her leaning tower of data. 

Her desk was practically spotless when the distinctive opening synth of ‘just the two of us’ started to play. She couldn’t help sway along and smile knowing the endless shit Tony would give her about her taste in music. Luckily, Jarvis was a good bro. She twirled and her heart nearly exploded out of her chest when she caught a looming shadow in her peripheral vision. She nearly tripped over a desk chair whipping around to see what it was. 

“Ms. Lewis.” Okay, so it was a little irksome that he could look and sound so effortlessly poised while she was half contorted from trying not to splat on her face. 

“Uh, hey.” Loki had made it abundantly clear on several occasions how little he thought of Midgardian science, so it was weird to see him in the lab. At least weird without someone metaphorically dragging his ass there to consult on this or that.

“I had thought the lab was empty” Definitely a bit weird.

“Dubious, but I’ll go with it. So what was the great and terrible Loki planning on doing in an empty lab?” He didn’t speak. The look in his eyes was neutral but appraising. So at least he didn’t seem pissed at finding the lab occupied with one moderately caffeinated Darcy. 

“Should I guess? You could be here to sabotage some research, which would 100% land you on my shitlist btw, or maybe thus far magic has been unable to undo whatever voodoo Odin put on you and you’ve been forced to turn to humanities abominable sciences” she turned on the drama for that last bit, adopting a bit of Loki’s accent. 

“Your first guess was correct, I knew the lab was occupied the moment I heard your music.”

“convincing enough.” She shrugged, and then remembered something and hopped back to her desk. Finding what she was looking for in record time thanks to her shiny new organization job. “Oh! since you’re here, congratulations on being a co-founder/collaborator of the prestigious SSSSP! I ended up using your design. With some slight modifications, simplified the line art a bit, just to make it a bit more small-format friendly.”

Loki looked down at the tiny enameled pin. A coiled purple snake defined with delicate lines of gold. He looked well...unimpressed, but Darcy hadn’t really expected anything different. “Do I want to know precisely what I’m being credited as a co-founder to?”

Her smile spread as she spoke, weird as it was, it was still an accomplishment “Scholarship program, for women studying what Stark calls ‘squishy sciences’. Which totally started out as a joke, but I think Pepper secretly likes getting under Tony’s skin as much as I do.”

“Strange, I thought you were already saddled with academic debt of your own. Why not blackmail him into settling your own finances?” Why Loki was aware of her student debt was a bit of a mystery to her. Probably some ‘information is leverage’ nonsense that had become habit over time. Natasha was scarily aware of her formally colorful history, which was comparatively quite bland now that she shared a building with the freaking Avengers.

“That would’ve been way more practical. To be fair I was just teasing him, I can’t be held responsible for the weird machinations of rich people. I don’t know, I guess it just feels easier giving his money away than taking it for myself.” Darcy wondered how true that really was. How much easier would her life be if she could just wipe away all her debts? 

“You’re a strange woman ms. Lewis.”

She huffed a good-natured sigh “Said the pot to the kettle. So, you wanna commemorative pin or not?”

“I don’t wear purple.” Accurate. Dude was pretty committed to his color scheme, a cutesy purple snake might throw off his whole vibe. 

“Fair enough.” She nodded and popped the pin back into her desk. She thought they were darling and that’s all that mattered. 

When she looked up again she jumped nearly two feet in the air in shock because Loki, without making a single freaking sound! Had crossed the room, and now stood significantly closer, like body heat close...at least it felt warmer to Darcy. Her eyes landed on his mouth first, it was sporting a telltale little upturn at the corner. When she leaned back a smidge to meet his eyes her suspicions were confirmed. 

“Oh no.” She backed up a scooch “I know that look.” and there it was, the smug little ‘is that so?’ eyebrow quirk. “We are not about to fuck on my desk.”

“We’re not?” Jeez, he sounded like he was asking about the weather but he was looking at her like he was about to eat her alive(in the nice orgasm-y way...hopefully. If not she should probably start running) 

After backing up she stood between her desk and the vast floor to ceiling window that made up one wall of the lab. She discovered that while Tony could work in a horrible cave, but both he and Pepper vastly preferred the virtues of natural daylight and an open view, and had tried to maximize it in every room they could. 

Loki stepped forward, leaning to run a hand across the desk in question. That slow press forward, it was something Darcy was beginning to get used to. He seemed to get a kick out of closing in bit by bit, wordlessly daring her to retreat and concede. His little act just balancing on the knifes edge between butterflies in the belly exciting, and actually kinda terrifying. Darcy may have taken another tiny involuntary step closer to the window “I full-on Marie Kondo’d that baby. This is the most spotless it’s been in weeks-“ 

Loki cut her off, slowly stepping around her desk as he spoke. “Ms. Lewis I assure you I have no intention whatsoever of bending you over that desk, ripping off your no doubt charming panties, and fucking you so thoroughly you won’t be able to so much as look at it without recalling how it felt to be sprawled atop it with me buried between your lovely thighs.” 

Well shit, when he put it like that. 

“No, I have something a little different in mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does that count as dirty talk? Did I do it right? cause I don't know how the heckity-heck people write that stuff (☉_☉)
> 
> I know it seems like Darcy and Loki actually do talk a fair amount, but most of that is just Darcy. I think she’s not spectacular at comfortable silences, so she’s gotten used to just chatting along, assuming nobody’s fully listening. She’s kind of resigned herself to being something like background noise, and most responses are just people humoring her instead of genuine engagement. Even Jane can sometimes dismiss her out of hand, and doesn’t fully acknowledge her expertise until realizing political science actually comes in handy when dealing with foreign/extraterrestrial power structures.
> 
> In her mind, bullshiting people is Loki’s forte. He’s probably adapted to maneuvering people and situations to his favor for centuries, and by this point can do so without needing to think about it. In the greater context of the Avengers she holds no real strategic advantages, sure she’s helpful but hardly indispensable, so Loki simply using her as a means of sexual gratification is as reasonable an explanation as any. More so, because that’s exactly what she’s doing with him.


	6. and a little Glitz

Loki had not been looking for ms. Lewis. He’d awoken well before dawn ill at ease. It was not in his nature to be bound to one place. Where he could once navigate the folds in the fabric of the universe slipping through its weave with ease, now he was bound, nearly strangled by the restrictions Odin had placed upon him. As much as he loathed to admit it, Odin appeared to finally be learning brute force was not so effective a tool against Loki as it was Thor. ‘Bound to the service of Midgard’s champions until he’d seen the error of his ways’ indeed. What a farce! The only error he’d made was losing to a band of idiots! Or believing for a moment a hoard of screeching insects could ever make a worthy army. Now, he was trapped on this festering planet with its polluted cities and all the foolish inhabitants blissfully content to do nothing as their world burned around them. He could have made this a better world, freed it from its petty squabbles, and guided it to greatness. Now he had the privilege of watching the Avengers ‘save the day’ utterly blind to the greater looming threat of annihilation. Useless. 

Irritation was like a lance of ice piercing his skull and slowing any useful line of thought to an agonizing crawl. He wandered the dull corridors aimlessly, faint music going nearly unnoticed until it momentarily ceased returning Loki to the stifling silence. When it began again he followed it to its origin and who should he find but the inscrutable ms. Lewis contentedly swaying to the soft melody. Some of the tension bled from him as he watched her, surprising himself when he found he didn’t resent her for her apparent indifference, envy her easy acceptance. She was utterly innocuous. A common flower stubbornly blooming in a concrete wasteland. As lovely as she was pointless...temporary. 

He slid into the lab, for once not entirely sure of his intentions “Ms. Lewis.” 

“Uh, hey.” He saw a minute flash of annoyance cross her eyes and questioned again why he’d come here. It took little thought to infer ms. Lewis was the source of the music, she nearly always was. There’d been no reason to investigate, no reason to see her.

“I had thought the lab was empty” a rather uninspired lie, but still he had found himself here in this primitive lab. It wasn’t as if he’d sought her out, but he’d no sooner admit that he’d been wandering the halls like a pathetic lost boy.

“Dubious, but I’ll go with it. So what was the great and terrible Loki planning on doing in an empty lab?” She smiled, like it was some sort of feat to catch him in a lie. He wondered why her smiles never felt cheap, she gave them so freely, it seemed like they should lose meaning in their abundance. Much like the good captain's grating platitudes. 

“Should I guess? You could be here to sabotage some research, which would 100% land you on my shitlist btw, or maybe thus far magic has been unable to undo whatever voodoo Odin put on you and you’ve been forced to turn to ‘humanities abominable sciences’” 

As Loki had gradually taken greater notice of ms. Lewis, it had grown apparent that she had a bit of a gift for imitation, perhaps parody was a better word. When she told stories she’d often adopt the caricature of whoever she was referring to. Boiling down their qualities to something simple, recognizable, and often to a less than flattering effect when she happened to be in an intemperate mood. He found he didn’t mind terribly when she mimicked his accent, she had enough sense to be wary, her jabs all toothless and superficial. It amused him how she often adopted his diction as well, and demonstrated that she was, in fact, capable of intelligent speech as much as she would lead most to believe otherwise. 

He shouldn’t have come here. He was in a morose mood, irritable from the scientist's relentless attempts to quantify something as beyond measure as spell work, exhausted from the ever-present weight of Odin’s bonds stunting his magic. He couldn’t find the point of deception, it held no amusement for him now in this tasteless room with this insignificant girl “Your first guess was correct, I knew the lab was occupied the moment I heard your music.”

“convincing enough.” She simply shrugged as if being caught alone in the last waning hours of the night by a conqueror, a murderer, was nothing. Did anything matter to this girl? After all she’d witnessed did nothing faze her? He wondered if she knew how effortless it would be to snuff out her life. A numbing coldness joined his irritation and exhaustion at the thought. 

“Oh! since you’re here, congratulations on being a cofounder/collaborator of the prestigious SSSSP! I ended up using your design. With some slight modifications, simplified the line art a bit, just to make it a bit more small-format friendly.”

His fingers thawed a bit where they brushed against hers as she handed him a tiny purple and gold broach. It was a snake no bigger than a coin, the one he’d absently sketched next to her ridiculous ‘eyelash vipers’. Quick lines of ink refined into graceful curves of gold framing rich purple enamel. She’d given the damned thing eyelashes, tiny but present, robbing the creature of its true nature. As if she could render a viper innocuous by softening its appearance alone. Foolish. Pointless. The childish notion of an oblivious girl. He rubbed his thumb over the surface, as if he could wipe away the falsehood, one that could get her killed.

“Do I want to know precisely what I’m being credited as a cofounder to?”

Another smile, given without subterfuge or expectation. Another whisper of warmth. “Scholarship program, for women studying what Stark calls ‘squishy sciences’. Which totally started out as a joke, but I think Pepper secretly likes getting under Tony’s skin as much as I do.”

Benevolent mischief, had he ever indulged in such a thing? Perhaps once, long ago. Loki quickly extinguished the sentiment willing the numbness to return. “Strange, I thought you were already saddled with academic debt of your own. Why not blackmail him into settling your own finances?” 

She looked at him then, lips parted in a surprised little ‘o’ as if the thought had never occurred to her, then shook her head ruefully. “That would’ve been way more practical. To be fair I was just teasing him, I can’t be held responsible for the weird machinations of rich people. I don’t know, I guess it just feels easier giving his money away than taking it for myself.” 

“You’re a strange woman ms. Lewis.” A foolish one. 

A tiny huff of amusement and knowing smile had warmth once again blooming where he’d stubbornly buried it. “Said the pot to the kettle. So, you wanna commemorative pin or not?”

He willed himself the resent her for the effect she had on him but found the once inexhaustible store of venom sorely lacking. “I don’t wear purple.” 

“Fair enough.” He watched her tuck the thing away without a second thought and wondered if he would have preferred it if she had teased and needled him, urging him to take the silly trinket. 

Then he remembered he didn’t want useless baubles from her. Her smiles, her easy banter, her guileless amusement, they were all just appetizers for what he truly craved. It was the momentary exquisite release he found between her pale thighs. The intoxicating pride every time she trembled with the ecstasy he gave her. His name on her lips in helpless whispers and cries of passion. Her touch was the only reprieve from the monotony and humiliation of his current state, and oh how he craved it. 

“Oh no.” She retreated, the prey like wariness in her stance sparking something deliciously wicked in Loki.

“I know that look.” Is that what she thought? As if she could ever hope to comprehend the depths of his lust, of his depravity. If she truly understood even a fraction of the bestial hunger he kept chained she wouldn’t just play at frightened rabbit, she’d flee for her life. Ah, but it wouldn’t do to frighten off his only plaything. Not while she still held appeal.

“We are not about to fuck on my desk.” 

“We’re not?” No matter, Loki could think of a plethora of other surfaces he could fuck the delectable ms. Lewis on. 

“I full-on Marie Kondo’d that baby. This is the most spotless it’s been in weeks-“ Loki continued to stalk her across the room as she prattled on. He could see the stiff tension in her limbs, a forced stillness that tried to say ‘look how unaffected I am, I’m not even bolting’. He’d have her trembling soon enough. 

“Ms. Lewis I assure you I have no intention whatsoever of bending you over that desk, ripping off your no doubt charming panties, and fucking you so thoroughly you won’t be able to so much as look at it without recalling how it felt to be sprawled atop it with me buried between your lovely thighs.” 

She flushed crimson from the tops of her breasts to her hairline. Somehow still capable of being scandalized even after the countless hours she’d spent writhing in his bed.

“No, I have something a little different in mind.”

~~~

Another step forward and she was backed into the window. He watched her give a tiny flinch when she felt the touch of cool glass through the thin fabric of her t-shirt. It was all too easy to corner her, the play had become a familiar game between them. Conquering her, letting her conquer him. A tamed hound lavished under her attentions one day, a ravenous wolf the next. She knew how to play both sides of the game, and she did it well. For a mortal. That was why even now, he had not grown bored with her. 

He caged her in with his body, pressing her further against the chill window. Delighting in the quick shiver that ran through her. He knew under her shirt her nipples were already drawn into tight peaks. He wrapped his hands under her soft thighs and lifted her till her lips aligned with his. He ran his tongue across the fullness of her lower lip tasting the sweet remnants of her lip balm, before sliding past her parted lips into a kiss the had his loins tightening. She moaned softly against his lips and locked her ankles behind his back pressing her body flush against his. Loki toyed with the thought of shredding the thin leggings that clung to her curves like a second skin, but that might discourage her from wearing such charming garments in the future, and he rather liked the way they showcased the curves of her ass. Instead, he stripped her shirt away and trapped the hiss she made when her bare skin met glass with another consuming kiss. 

He could see now where her nipples strained against her bra, visible even through the slightly padded fabric. She closed the small gap between and pressed her lips to the sensitive skin where his jaw met his neck, then brushed them across the shell of his ear. “This glass is fucking cold.” 

He laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep in his gut. “Do you wish for me to stop?” He asked, quite certain of what her answer would be. 

She jut out her lower lip, pretending to pout “Didn’t say that. Besides, I’ve got a feeling things will get hot soon enough.” Wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

“Ms. Lewis-“ This tiny woman somehow managed to find a way to be ridiculous in every situation.

She met his eyes, bluer now in contrast to the deep blush that stained her cheeks, and bobbed her head in a quick nod “You’re absolutely right, if I’m still cognitive enough to be corny, we might need to step it up a notch”  
  
He shifted his hips against her grinding against her clothed core and when her head tilted back with a quiet sigh he attacked her throat. He teased the sensitive area with his lips and tongue, slowly drawing out more little noises from her. He could feel her hands in his hair, on his neck, sliding down his back, urging him on. His cock strained against the confines of his pants and found his hands were reluctant to release the soft flesh of her thighs. He groaned into her neck and her thighs tightened around him. He slid one of her bra straps away, peppering the reddened line of skin with feather-light kisses and made quick work of the clasp before he achingly untangled her body from his to set her on the ground. The soft sound of protest from the back of her throat tugged at his control and he exhaled as he set her feet gently back on the floor. Loki turned her to face the window. Indulging himself a moment to bury his face in the soft waves of her hair, nosing the back of her neck before guiding her hands forward and planting them on the cool glass. He ran his thumb quickly across the back of her hand with an unspoken ‘keep them there’ before he pulled away to admire his work. She stood bent forward at the hips with her hands braced against the glass. Her hair spilled forward over her shoulders obscuring her face, but the still flushed tips of her ears peeked through the soft curtain of hair. 

Loki moved his hands to her hips, tracing the waistband of her leggings with his thumbs. Then hooked them around the fabric and slowly drew it down her legs. He was right, her panties were charming. The deep red fabric stood out in brilliant contrast to her creamy skin. Sometime in the fray, she’d slipped her shoes off, so it was easy to pull the leggings off and expose the rest of her lovely legs. He bent forward molding his body against her back, snaking one hand around her to tease her through the damp fabric. She shivered as his finger traced the edge of her panties. Darcy never disappointed. She was already so slick, so ready. He swelled with pride and arousal thinking about how eagerly she accepted his touch, perfectly content to let him debauch her and melt under his ministrations whenever the mood struck. He had so rarely stayed with one partner for any significant length of time. To have so lovely a partner always close at hand, one who greedily basked in the pleasure he could give, it was rather pleasant.

She groaned as his fingers finally slid past her soaked panties and he felt the muscles of her thighs and ass twitch through the fabric of his pants. He plunged two fingers deeper thinking of how it would feel to be sheathed in her slick passage. Arousal throbbed deep within him as he felt her muscles grip his digits. He growled against her shoulder before pulling away to swiftly rid her of her panties. Then he lowered himself to come level with her dripping cunt. She gasped as he spread her and teased her flushed lips. She was plenty wet but Loki so enjoyed the choked gasps she made when he curled his tongue inside her. Her arousal was nearly dripping down his chin when he noticed one of her hands had slipped out of place. He growled softly and let her feel his teeth as they grazed the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. She retaliated by smacking his knee lightly with a foot. He wondered if she could feel his lips curl against her skin as he smirked at her juvenile antics. 

He caught the offending foot by the ankle, sliding his grip up her leg as he stood. His grip on her thigh leaving her to balance on one leg “I do believe you’re ready.”

Her words came out between unsteady breaths and she rolled her hips against him “Ya think?” 

Satisfied with that confirmation he finally freed his straining cock from his trousers and teased its head along her dripping slit. In his peripheral vision, he saw the toes of her trapped leg curl in anticipation. He entered her and moaned as her body pulled him in inch by blissful inch. Her slick walls pulsed around him and he had to pause and force himself to mind his strength, careful not to bruise her in his grip. The feel of her was so sweet so intoxicating, tightening around him as he pulled back, just to plunge in once again burying himself to the root in her wet heat. Again and again, each thrust and pull drawing new moans from her throat. 

Darcy moaned “Loki!”

Teetering on the very tips of her toes “you’re too tall, I can’t balance!” she said, gasping through each word. 

He brought her a step closer to the window until she was braced on her forearms. Then slid his free hand down her side. She realized what he was about to do a scant moment before he hooked his hand under her other leg and lifted her completely off the floor. She squeaked, the new position shifting her balance, and Loki felt her clamp around him so tight his vision went white for a moment. When it returned he could see where her sensitive nipples pressed against the icy glass and surmise that was what had her tightening around him like a silk vice. Her fingers curled against the window and Loki could see her expression in the reflection of the glass. Her eyes were hazy and half-lidded the blue nearly drown out by her wide pupils, her lips were flushed and parted slightly, the glass fogged from her panting breaths. 

He ghosted his lips across her ear “Quite a view.”

Darcy rocked back into him, eyes closing as she let her head lull back against his shoulders “huh?” 

Then her eyes snapped open and Loki grunted at the force of her insides strangling his cock “Ohmygod! Fucking window!” 

Loki didn’t bother hiding his smirk. Apparently, she’d been distracted enough to forget her surroundings. “Indeed. Fucking.” Loki thrust into her meaningfully “Window.” he raised an eyebrow meeting her eyes through the reflection. 

And she burst out laughing. He’d come to appreciate her laughter some. Especially after he discovered how exquisite it felt to have her abdominal muscles jolt and flutter around him when he was buried to the hilt in her slick cunt. He continued his ministrations, his steady rhythm and clever tongue slowly transforming her laughter into escalating moans as her release drew near. His control was nearly at its end when she cried out. His name falling from her lips again and again as he fucked her through the lingering spasms of her orgasm. His release was like a dam breaking and it flood out of him filling her where she still trembled around him. 

Together they slid to the floor, both breathing audibly from the exertion.  
  
Darcy leaned just far enough to snag her giant hoodie from the back of her chair before Loki dragged her back to him. 

“I’m afraid I’ll be needing the use of my legs soon" She suddenly tensed against him "HOLY HELL do you think someone saw?” 

Given I’m not terribly inclined to sharing, no. “Stark values his privacy, the windows are set to one way viewing by default.” 

He felt her relax against him as she blew out a sigh of relief. “Not that it wasn’t totally worth it, but I just got this place perfect and now it smells like sex.” 

He might be insulted if it wasn’t obvious she knew nothing of magic. Odin may have tried to cripple him but he could at least manage this much. He cleared the air with a flourish and she muttered a sleepy thanks. He wondered then, why she had been bustling around the lab, utterly alone. It was usually dr. Foster who refused to leave unless coerced. It hardly mattered of course. In fact, all the more convenient, to find such an effective distraction practically waiting for him. Again, Loki took in Darcy’s appearance. The threadbare T-shirt and star dotted slippers were casual fare even for her. He took in his marks on her skin both fresh and faded, then shook a thought from his head before it could culminate. 

Pinned to her hideous oversized sweatshirt Loki noticed a little flash of gold and purple. Another one of her commemorative pins no doubt and it gave him an idea. On a whim he snared her left wrist wrapping the meager magic he could manage round and round till it began to solidify. When he released her wrist it was encircled by a delicate glittering band. She lifted her arm twisting it to and fro to admire the bangle. It was fashioned in the shape of a snake biting its own tail to close in a circlet around her wrist, a golden body set with dozens of tiny purple stones echoing scales down its back.

She admired the little trifle for a long moment. “What’s this?”

He lilted his head to the side. It was nothing, barely more than a parlor trick to see if he could still solidify an illusion into something a bit more tactile. He was displeased at the effort it took to accomplish a once simple task, but it was more than he’d managed in weeks. Perhaps some tiny measure of his power was returning to him “Consider it a congratulatory gift for manipulating Stark into funding future scholars.”

She laughed “Really? Thank you It’s beautiful” He watched her run her thumb along its spine and then seemingly to herself she whispered “... a bit sad.”

Loki frowned his jaw tightening in displeasure. She leaned and turned her head catching his expression and asked “It’s an ouroboros right?”

“Yes. A symbol of eternity.” Apparently, one not so obscured by the passage of time to be forgotten. 

“What it is, is a lie. Nothing can sustain itself forever.” Another response he had not been expecting. Wasn’t she pleased? Generally, she seemed to like shiny things.

“It’s merely a symbol.”

She nodded, and the expression on her face wasn’t that of displeasure, just thoughtful “Yeah well, symbols lie. They oversimplify things.” She shrugged.

“Existence is not a balanced equation. Entropy, chaos, change, these things are inevitable. Creating life is infinitely more difficult than ending it. If a snake ate its own tail it would just die in horrible pain.” As she spoke she gesticulated the new trinket catching the dim light as she moved her hands. It was like the woman was incapable of sitting still unless she had a screen in front of her eyes or was unconscious. 

“You’re surprisingly fatalistic.” It was true, it wasn’t the sort of sentiment he expected to come from her lips.

She crossed her arms across her chest then a moment later unfolded them again unable to keep still. “No, I don’t think I am. Letting everything descend into chaos would be easy. This, all the progress, everything humanity has accomplished, that’s hard, but we did it anyway. If everything was balanced, if creation and destruction were perfectly equal, that poor little snake would survive but it would be in pain forever.”

He watched her return her eyes to the bangle, running her finger delicately over the curve of its head, and he wondered if she was foolish enough to give a real serpent the same sort of attention. He laughed, in a way maybe she already had “You are a very strange woman ms. Lewis.”

“You said that already. How many earth women do you know anyhow?” Bumping her head lightly back against his chest.

She took a deep breath in seeming to declutter her mind “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make things sound negative. This is probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever been given.”

She continued to admire it smiling at the details, then froze “Wait, it’s not going to bite me is it?” 

Ah, so she wasn’t completely blind to the sort of man he was, forever a scheming prince. As if no gift given could ever truly be free. He hadn’t actually given the action much thought, but her question was too good an idea to let slip. 

He ran his thumb along its length pretending to ponder his answer while privately wondering if this little enchantment would stick “Only if you try to take it off.”

She twisted again to see his face “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

“Ah, but you do have one way to find out.”

He watched her raise onto her knees and turn to face him properly, smiling “Regardless of any magical booby traps it really is quite stunning, thank you Loki.” Then gently holding the sides of his face, the new metal brushing one cheek cold so unlike her skin, she planted a soft kiss on his forehead. 

Then she stood and turned away, quickly gathering her scattered clothing and scampering out of the lab. Watching her leave, Loki wondered again why he’d even come here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like reading stories that feature the guy’s perspective but writing it is hard. Loki got a tiny bit dark there for a moment, it’s been a sucky month irl so that might be bleeding over a bit. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading, and please leave a comment I always have fun reading them!


	7. Mixed Luck & Dodging Heaven

The funny thing about panic was, in some ways it could be a bit dream like. Finding yourself in an unbelievably ridiculous situation without knowing quite how you got there or how to get out. 

And Darcy really REALLY wanted out of this situation. Like, seriously considering selling a blood relative just to get the hell out of this mother of all FUBAR situations. Probably instigated by Tony, not that it mattered now. Regardless of how it started, this was probably the end for Darcy. 

If she had the capacity for any thought besides ‘oh fuck oh fuck I am about to die’ she might be a little proud of herself for not peeing her pants. A considerable feat given that less than ten feet away stood a Hulk. A very angry looking Hulk. I mean sure, the dude looks perpetually pissed off, it’s kind of his whole shtick, but knowing that and experiencing it first hand were two vastly different things. So not pissing her pants in the face of unbridled paralyzing terror: FUCKING ACCOMPLISHMENT. She wasn’t even crying. This day had already been a miserable ordeal before she found herself facing her impending demise. She’d fought with Jane over something too stupid to even remember now, been chewed out via email by Agent Hill for shit that was in no way her fault or responsibility, and the underwire of her once favorite bra had finally broken loose and had been stabbing her for the better part of eight hours. Darcy was exhausted, she was pissed off, and she was 100% done with this megabitch of a day. Normal people don’t typically make excellent decisions when they’re miserable and stressed out, and as the most normal person in this building, Darcy was no exception.

So in typical Darcy fashion, she opened her mouth while neglecting to consult her brain “You know what? You’re right.”

She huffed and planted her sweaty hands on her hips “I’m pissed off too.”

The Hulk looked at her, maybe a bit bewildered, it was hard to tell given the extreme resting bitch face he was perpetually rocking. 

“I’m Darcy by the way, we haven’t officially met.” She’d met Banner of course, but was still unclear on what knowledge actually stuck post transformation, and it seemed like the polite thing to do. ‘Please let me tell you a bit about myself before you smush me into a sticky red paste with your fucking watermelon sized fists’ or something like that. 

Hell, this was so comically unfair. She guessed the same could be said of anyone who died from a tragic case of ‘wrong place wrong time’ fatally bad luck. Something between a phone call and an explosion had started this whole mess. It wasn’t as if Tony had a monopoly on taking things too far, but the fact that he could do it long-distance was what set him apart as a genius. An idiot genius. What had led to the catastrophic malfunction was a bit muddled, but what followed the explosion was excruciatingly clear. Bruce had gone from agitated, to irritated, to avocado, to raging Hulk green in the span of about six seconds. Part of her was grateful she was the only other person in the lab. She hoped the only other person in the building, but that was just wishful thinking. This was bad, real bad. Against all odds Darcy still had a shred of optimism that maybe she could do something to keep it from getting worse. 

First objective: isolate the Hulk from...everything? There really was no good ending was there? 

“You wanna obliterate some shit?” 

Well, that certainly got his attention, good. Right? 

“I do” she sniped “In fact, I feel like popping off the heads of iron man suits like Barbie dolls, but I get the feeling that wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying for you.” 

She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, jutting out a hip “but it does give me an idea.” 

Biting the inside of her cheek and praying to every merciful deity in the universe Darcy spoke “you wanna smash? Follow me.” 

With that she turned and began walking to the elevator bay, not sure if Hulk was actually following her until she felt the weight of his footsteps reverberating through the floor. Would he even fit in the elevator? Stairs were only likely to be more aggravating, but if he didn’t fit would he get angrier? Bigger? What the hell was she thinking!? 

No thinking. Just walking. One foot in front of the other. If nothing else, at least she was putting a little bit of distance between them and some of the more volatile lab equipment. 

Standing in an elevator next to the Hulk listening to Bossa Nova as they descended the agonizing gazillion floors to the sub-basement was the most surreal experience of Darcy’s life. She couldn’t even remember breathing, she’ve had to take a breath sometime? Maybe not, maybe that’s why it felt like her brain was slowly exploding inside her skull. When Darcy heard the elevator ding and the doors begin to open she wanted to collapse and let this day end her. No. She had a plan, she was going to see it through, and then she could die. Stick to the plan.

Plan? That was a fucking laugh. Still, Darcy did her level best not to descend into hysterics. 

Her head felt strangely disconnected from her body as she made her way into one of Tony’s 'Avenger proofed' basement levels. Currently being used as storage for some neglected prototypes and a few of Tony’s lesser prized sports cars. She turned around to face the Hulk and gestured to some behemoth-flying-tank-looking-thing like she was Vanna White held at gunpoint. 

“Smash?” Well, that was the end of her plan. Nothing to do now but hope he didn’t take the suggestion too far and that he wasn’t pissed enough to bring down an entire building. 

The earth shook twice under her feet. Once when Hulk lept across the cavernous space and again when he landed on the thing crushing it like wet cardboard. The sound of shredding metal made her head throb. She was so fucking tired. Darcy watched detached as Hulk reduced the prototype to scrap metal confetti and barely jumped when a hunk of metal the size of a unicycle landed two feet in front of her. She stared at it dumbly wondering what sort of rage monster she’d be if their situation was reversed. Wondered if she could even contain that sort of anger without falling apart. Maybe that was Bruce’s superpower. 

He was still going. The sounds of destruction never ebbed. 

When she looked up she saw him dismembering a sapphire blue jaguar, probably custom, the shiny blue roof coming off like the carapace of a beetle. What might have been another person's most prized possession, ripped to pieces in a moment. Better that than something that bleeds. Besides Tony didn’t have prized possessions, not the kind money could buy anyway. 

Enough money and power and it didn’t matter how bad a person fucked up. Darcy’s head throbbed again at a particularly shrill rending of metal. Fuck today! 

Darcy gave in to the childish rage and kicked the scrap of metal with all her might. It didn’t fly across the room in a satisfying manner, it barely had the decency to move a few feet. What the Hulk had tossed around like shredded wrapping paper was a lot heavier than it looked, and the next shrill noise came out of Darcy as she felt part of her foot crunch at the impact. DAMNIT! How stupid could she be? 

Darcy didn’t even notice how quiet it had gotten until she heard Hulk speak “Darcy weak.”

Fan-fucking-tastic not only did she do a stupid thing! No, that wouldn’t have been enough! She’d injured herself in a pathetic fit of rage in front of the HULK! ‘Darcy weak’ indeed. What a grand veritable layer cake of humiliation! Darcy finally crumpled, pressing her throbbing head against her knees. 

“Don’t I fucking know it.” it was barely audible, her voice muffled against her own skin. 

The silence extended, but Darcy found she was pretty comfortable curled up in her little ball of self pity and couldn’t summon the willpower to look up.

“Darcy?”

Yup. That was Dr. Banner’s voice alright, and while the reasonable part of Darcy’s brain acknowledged that this was an improvement of the whole situation, the less reasonable part of her brain was quick to remind her that this was yet another name she could add to the list of people who’d witnessed her screw up today. She really didn’t want to think about the list. 

Darcy mumbled from her crouched position “Pants intact?” cause seeing her pseudo-coworker’s junk was the cherry on today’s shit sundae she absolutely did not need right now. 

“What were you thinking?”

Not ‘are you okay?’, no ‘I’m sorry I turned into a terrifying rage monster.’ not even a token ‘congrats on not dying!’ He had the nerve to ask her what she was thinking, in that insufferable tone? To hell with it. Fuck Banner’s junk. Darcy exploded “WHAT WAS I THINKING?” 

Her foot and head screamed in a chorus of pain when she suddenly stood up. “WHAT WAS I THINKING??? I was thinking I DON’T WANT TO DIE and I DON’T WANT ANYONE ELSE TO DIE and a little bit of WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO thrown in for variety. What were you thinking huh?” Darcy swung an arm in his direction, nearly clipping his nose with her fingertips. “What exactly had you hulking out in the middle of the goddamn lab and scaring the hell out of me? Do you have any idea how scared I was? I’ve seen him punch Thor through walls, MULTIPLE WALLS! ONE PUNCH! A teammate! Me? I was pretty sure I was going to end today as a red smear on Tony’s fucking floor! That’s what I was thinking!” 

“You sho-” Bruce began, eyes turned down in exhaustion, but Darcy didn’t let him finish. 

“by all means, enlighten me. What should I have been thinking? What should I have done? Because I’d really like to know how I can make sure I am never ever in that situation EVER again!” She was on a roll now, too pissed off and overwhelmed to stop making things worse. If she was going to dig her own grave, might as well make it roomy. 

“Should I have hid? So I could be crushed by flying lab equipment? Or maybe I should have run from the extremely violent agitated giant green man. Nobody told me if this is an avoid any sudden movements/play dead situation or a run like hell one. Or is this common knowledge, and I’m just the one idiot who doesn’t know?” 

She watched him step back from her, holding his hands up placatingly, like she was the fucking dangerous one “Just calm down-“ 

“calm d- Really? You’re telling me to calm down? When has that EVER WORKED? On him? On anyone?” Why was she like this? Why couldn’t she just shut up? It wasn’t like screaming in poor Bruce’s hapless face was making her feel better. 

But she wasn’t in control. Darcy felt split in two, chaotic cornered-animal-panic Darcy was at the helm spitting and hissing like a feral cat, all while reasonable exhausted Darcy wanted to curl up and die, just for a little peace. “Or maybe I was thinking: is there a way this can end that won’t keep Bruce up at night? I don’t know. I was a little too stressed out to be thinking clearly.” 

The look on Bruce’s face was like a punch to the gut. She shouldn’t have said it, she hated herself for doing it, for not being in control...and wondered, is this what it’s like for him? Watching helplessly out his own eyes wishing he could just stop, as he makes a mess of everything? 

“I am so done.” 

Darcy hobbled her way back to the elevator, abandoning Bruce in the wake of the Hulk’s destruction.

~~~

She wanted to go home and collapse into bed and sleep for the next two days, but her phone, her keys, her purse, her freaking brain, were still sitting in the dilapidated lab. So she jabbed the elevator button and tried to hold what there was left to hold together just a little bit longer. She limped out of the lab and collided with a wall. Her brain throbbed in protest at the sudden movement. 

Fortunately, the wall was polite enough to catch her before she crumpled to the floor. It also spoke. 

“You’re limping.” it was an indifferent assessment, devoid of anything resembling sympathy. Two words in perfectly accented English. 

For fucks sake! Really? Had this day not been enough? Who exactly had she pissed off to get shit on so much in one day? Why of all people did Loki, god of looking down his exceptionally pointy nose and judging people’s weaknesses, have to see her like this? Yes, yes, amuse yourself at your staggering superiority and watch the stupid little ant struggle to drag herself home! Now all she needed was her grandmother here to subsequently tear apart her appearance, her physique, and all of her life choices, and she’d have full fucking BINGO. 

Don’t engage. Don’t make things worse. Don’t start ranting at the person most likely to murder you for annoying him. This day has already been a trash fire Darcy, please don’t run your big mouth and make it worse. Just move on. 

“Yep.” Her reply wasn’t as perfectly indifferent, but cut her a break, she was dealing with some pretty extenuating circumstances. With that, she hobbled past him, one thing on her mind. 

~~~

Darcy didn’t make it home. In the time it took her to hobble to the elevator, she realized her apartment was oh so helpfully stationed at the very end of the hallway, the farthest point away from the elevator bay, and she’d probably pass out from the mounting pain before she could get to her door. She made a snap decision and jabbed the button for the lounge floor. It had the biggest couch less than twenty feet from the elevator doors. 

The room was blessedly empty and Darcy collapsed onto the couch, gingerly propped her screaming foot up on one of the arms, and promptly passed the fuck out. 

She didn’t know how much time had passed when she was awakened by the weight of a warm hand on her shoulder, but it seemed a lot darker. She slit one eye open to see the somewhat bruised but still perfect face of Captain America. After all she’d been through today, not the worst face to wake up to. Now if he could just wiggle his perfect nose and magic away the agonizing pain in her foot ‘I Dream of Genie’ style it would be perfect. Oof, if only accelerated healing was transferable. Darcy opened her eyes fully, wiggling her fingers in greeting, and let him gently help her to sit up. 

“So, I heard you went toe to toe with the Hulk.” news travels fast...or not, judging by Tony’s panoramic view it had probably been something like six hours. 

Her voice was rough with exhaustion when she spoke “I did. My toes lost.”

He sat down next to her, generously obliging when she motioned to lean on him. It wasn’t every day a girl got a chance to cuddle up to Captain America, and she’d fuckin’ earned it. He was exactly as toasty as she’d imagined. 

“How are you doing?” 

Goddamnit Darcy could cry in relief for being asked such a simple question. Bless Steve for knowing when to just ask a person if they’re okay. 

Darcy kinda melted into his side. Exhaustion and pain stripping away any pretense of professionalism. Steve was her friend, sort of, proximity meant they hung out occasionally. If you could call a little polite chit chat and quietly inhabiting the same room as ‘hanging out’. He didn’t hate her and in the moment that was enough. Right now, they were friends. “Well, I’m wondering if amputation might be preferable to the pain in my foot, but overall, better. Thank you for asking.” 

“Do you want to get it looked at?” Not ‘you should-’ or ‘you need-’ just what do you want to do? It was a simple thing, but in that moment it made all the difference in the world. 

“That would probably be a good idea...I-” she bit her lip “but I kinda screamed at the only MD in the building.”

She felt the shoulder she was leaning on shake slightly, and when she looked up she could see that Steve was desperately trying to hold back a laugh from escaping. He met her gaze “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t, it’s just so perfect...perfectly Darcy, that you only started screaming after Hulk was gone. Way to keep a cool head.” 

So, there was surveillance footage, and apparently everyone had seen it. Of course they’d watched it. Good lord invisibility sounded like a fantastic superpower to have right now. Casualties or no, any Hulk incident warranted thorough investigation. She couldn’t fault them for due diligence. “Oh yeah, I was sooo collected when I screamed myself hoarse at poor Banner when he was just trying to keep his pants from falling off. Cool as a cucumber.”

Steve shot her a sympathetic smile “He’s not mad-“

“Of course he’s not mad, if he was you’d be suiting up not chilling on the couch with me.” 

The small mountain he called a shoulder began to shake again. “I don’t know, I finally got that damn suit off for the day, I’m pretty sure I’d just dispatch our newly appointed Hulk wrangler.” Darcy groaned, she was never wrangling the Hulk again if she had any say in the matter. “How’d you even get him in an elevator? Poor Clint was laughing so hard I was worried he was going to suffocate. Natasha had to take over flight control on the way back.” 

“Fantastic. Darcy Lewis: disrupting flights from all the way across the Atlantic!” She announced in her best mid atlantic accent. Then dropped her chin to her chest and mumbled “I am a woman of many talents.”

He wrapped a heavy arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze. Darcy was half tempted to razz him about being a master of the Christian-side-hug but doubted he’d appreciate the reference “Single handedly saving the day. Now shall we see if we can save that foot before it really does need to be amputated?” 

“Carry me?”

She watched him plaster the fakest affronted look she’d ever seen on his perfect face “I’m offended you even had to ask. I may have had to hike five miles uphill both ways in waist high snow just to see a doc back in the day, but I’m not about to make you walk on that foot. You might build too much character.”

He didn’t know the half of it. “God forbid.” 

~~~

Facing Bruce after what she said to him was not an enticing prospect. Tension had her curling tighter and tighter in on herself that by the time she and Steve reached the med center Steve was caring around a ball of Darcy. Bruce had found pants that stayed up and the rest of an outfit and was restlessly toying around with a pen. 

“Hey-“ he began, but Darcy’s mouth had other ideas. 

“Screaming in your face seconds after you just un-hulked, not one of my finer moments.” She cringed, that was not an apology. She’d meant to apologize, Properly. Why was she so bad at this?

Bruce sighed and set down the pen. Then, needing something to do with his hands, pulled off his glasses and started cleaning them with the corner of his shirt. “Darcy...you...honestly, you handled the situation astonishingly well. The aftermath slightly less so, but I’m fairly sure you were going through shock. The truth is we don’t have any protocols laid out in the case of unexpected hulk-outs, not yet. All that to say, it could have gone a hell of a lot worse. It’s a small miracle it didn’t go worse. Collateral damage was minimal, nobody got hurt,” she got hurt, but she supposed self-inflicted damage didn’t count “but you could have been. You could have been hurt and it would have been my fault. That was the first thought blaring through my head the moment I changed back. I wasn’t ang—blaming you...I didn’t handle it as well as I should have.” Well, that wasn’t exactly an apology either, but if they were both terrible at it at least they were even.

He motioned at her boot with his glasses before putting them back on. “Will you let me take a look at that foot?”

Oh goodie, doctor time. Darcy steeled herself and told herself this was for the best. It needed to be looked at, better someone she knew than some random MD. “I’ve been too scared to look, after the adrenaline wore off it hurt so bad” 

Steve gently set her down on the examination table and dr. Banner lifted her injured foot to examine it. “It’s pretty swollen, we might have to cut off the bo-“

“Don’t you dare, I love these boots!” She bit her tongue. Now was not the time to be interrupting him.

He looked at the well worn ankle boots. The burnished leather and neat lacing “Just so you know this is going to take longer and hurt a hell of a lot worse.”

She groaned “Last resort Banner, you got that? You hurt my boots, you owe me new ones.”

Slowly, excruciatingly Banner carefully unlaced the boot, gingerly pulling the tongue away from her foot. With the leather pulled back they could see a little bit of the top of her foot, and they could see the telltale blood staining the lining and her tights “The swelling is pretty severe, blood’s seeped through your stocking into the lining-

“Is the narration absolutely necessary!?” and interrupting again. Stop that.

Bruce looked up at her, he wasn’t unsympathetic, just a doctor doing his best to help a rather difficult patient. “When blood starts to dry in the fabric it doesn’t make it easier to remove. From what I can tell there’s a good deal pooled, well... congealed, in the toe of your boot.” He explained.

“Quick like a bandaid?”

He cringed a little bit, pressing his lips tight together before speaking again “You want to keep all your toenails?”

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Seriously? Her boots too? Fuck today.

“It’s hard to see the full extent of the damage. How about making your next pair of boots steel toed?” Darcy tried to remind herself they were just things, tried not to sound like a whining spoiled child. 

She wasn’t successful. “That does not sound cute or comfy.” 

“Darcy” he pleaded. 

Darcy flopped back onto the table, resigned. Just a bad day, just her favorite boots, just her dignity, and second favorite foot. Just get through it. “Alright! Yeah, I’m stalling. Do what you gotta do, just no more narration. Please.”

~~~

Loki was not seething, merely irked. It was becoming abundantly clear that he’d been wrong. Ms. Lewis did not treat him the way she treated everyone else. True, she was casual around him, often more playful speaking with him than anyone else dared, but she never sought him out. Once she had come to him, chosen to seek him out, but from then on she seemed content to all but ignore him till he approached her. 

But she had no trouble dragging Barton, willing or not, into her games. Didn’t hesitate to banter with Stark and exaggeratedly flirt with ms. Potts, to both of their amusement. She was a social butterfly, restlessly flitting from one bloom to another. Only acknowledging him when there was no one else to be had. He’d found her draped across the good captain, nearly curled in his lap as he threw a hulking arm around her. It was shameless, even more so because he knew. He knew, regardless of how well she hid it, that she would never truly be more than another fairweather friend. This would never be her home, and they would never be her friends, not in the way dr. Foster was. Not one of them depended on her. 

And now she had completely disregarded him, in favor of seeking out the Captain to hoist her around like some sort of invalid. He could have eased her pain if she had only asked, not healed her entirely, not with his powers bound as they were, but he could have done a fair bit more for her than any midguardian medicine. Apparently, outside of more carnal pursuits, ms. Lewis could not deign to ask a disgraced god for assistance. As if he were beneath her dignity, of all the absurd! The stupid little trollop could live with a limp for the rest of her days for all he cared. It wasn’t as if she needed to walk for him to fuck her.


	8. not feelin' great

Bruce looked at her, brow furrowed with concern. After everything she felt a little bad being the cause of that expression “It would help considerably with the pain, you’re not dealing with a simple broken toe here. You managed to all but shatter one of your metatarsals, as well as fracture half the other bones in your foot. It could take a couple of months to recover.” but she was also a bit annoyed at having to repeat herself.

“I’m aware, I’ll manage with over the counter stuff okay. I don’t want this prescription.” She tried to hand the slip of paper back to him. You’d think out of everyone, he’d be pretty apt at picking up a hint when it comes to having some issues to putting potentially problematic substances in one’s body.

“Are you sure? The pain-“ Perhaps not.

Darcy sighed, tempted to resent her past self for once again putting her in positions like this. Once again dragging out dirty laundry she wished would just stay buried.

Addict was a strong word but she was hard pressed to think of a better one.

At one time she could’ve graduated without a single penny in debt. A real independent businesswoman. It had gotten to the point where she was so good, she started wondering what she was even doing in school. Darcy was making bank, making friends, for a minute it seemed like she had everything figured out. A good dealer never consumes their product. Simple concept, easy to remember, not always easy to follow. For a while, life had been a fucking peach, that is, until everything exploded in her face. At the time it had seemed reasonable. She had all the medicine to make her hurts go away, so she used it, and it used her back. Looking back it had been so easy, slipping into that place, a cocoon of numbing bliss. It didn’t feel like addiction at the start, just a little...help. It had been so easy, and now she was terrified of ever slipping again.

He was right, it was going to hurt. A lot. Still, the alternative scared her more.

“I’ll deal. Bruce, no. Just no, okay?” She pressed the slip of paper on to his desk, fixing him with a meaningful look. There. Direct, no room for confusion.

Bruce paused, then sputtered a bit, color rising in his cheeks when he finally put two and two together “...I understand. Sorry I-uh..I get it.”

Darcy barreled on, doing her level best to leave that line of thought in the dust. “Thank you. I’m totally putting holographic tassels on my scooter handlebars by the way.” Grinning as she spun the contraption on it's front wheels, very nearly clipping Banner’s shins.

She cringed a silent apology, now it was her turn to blush. The look he gave her was brief but adequately stern. “If that will aid in recovery, just no BMX stunts, It’s a mobility aid, not a toy.”

She tossed one hand up in a jaunty salute “Aye-aye doctor.” Wiggling her eyebrows at Steve, who was still leaning against the far wall. Like she needed a minder to ensure she actually received proper medical care, she was not Barton. Maybe it was a force of habit. Shockingly they were all less than perfect as far as taking care of themselves. Even Captain Rogers despite his penchant for mother henning others was known to engage his stealth skills post mission to dodge the Meds.

She and Cap rolled out of the med center side by side. Well, she rolled, he strode majestically. It was kind of hilarious how graceful he could be, like, when had he had time to receive dance training in between all the nazi punching and posing for enlistment posters?

Darcy could have smacked herself! It was kind of obvious now that she thought about it. Chorus girls! It had to be all the star-spangled-rockettes he toured with! Maybe he just learned by exposure, osmosis? The theory was plausible. She looked up at him then and her theorizing came to a screeching halt when she saw he was looking down at her, perhaps she was just projecting, but the expression on his face bore an irritating resemblance to pity.

His smile was well meaning and purposefully light “You know, they used to put cocaine in cough syrup.”

Aargh why??? He’s just being nice. He’s just trying to be understanding, helpful, typical goodie two shoes Steve. He could not possibly no how unhelpful the reminder was. Darcy wondered if her delinquent youth was common knowledge. It was hardly ‘mission relevant’ and Natasha didn’t strike her as a gossip, but how well did Darcy actually know her, did anyone for that matter?

She sighed. Regardless, Steve now knew that she had a complicated relationship with pharmaceuticals. Fan-fucking-tastic “Not quite the same thing, but thanks Cap. Can we not talk about it?”

He shrugged politely, giving her a wink “Not talk about how pre-serum Steve Rogers was a closeted Coke fiend? Yes ma’am.“

Darcy turned her eyes back down to the handlebars of her ‘mobility aid’ thumbing the drab rubber grips “Ya’know, I thought I hated being called ma’am, but from you, it’s not the worst.”

The remainder of their walk to the elevator was spent in an imperfect but companionable silence.

~~~

Whoever designed the mobility aid had the foresight to add a wee little basket to the front. Given Darcy wasn’t keen on breaking any more body parts, holding the handlebars for extra balance was extremely preferable to trying to juggle a tablet, stylus, and mug, risking further injury. She rolled into Stark’s workshop with the necessary documents already queued up, and found him hunched over a head...helmet actually, but at a distance, it looked disturbingly like he was lobotomizing some poor decapitated robot.

“Nice scooter short stack! You want some decals?” Darcy resisted the urge to roll her eyes, what was she twelve?

Instead, she tried to smile sweetly “No, but I’d love some basket mounted paintball turrets, or even better, glitter bombs!”

Stark paused in his robot lobotomy and glared at her “No way in hell.”

She responded with an exaggerated pout, rolling over to his workbench “So you have no problem with them punching through the walls, but you draw the line at me decorating them?”

“Hard line Lewis, no crossy”

She set the tablet delicately a top of the chaos of tools and wires. She wasn’t entirely sure if that ‘I don’t like being handed things’ was legit or not, but figured it was better to operate under the assumption that it was. Hardly the weirdest quirk in the building. “Fine. Can’t fault me for asking though.”

She watched him swipe absently through the documents, confirming here and there with a scan of his fingerprint. Darcy wondered, if he ever used something besides Stark tech if he’d gloss right over the ‘terms and conditions’ without reading them like everyone else. “However, I could be persuaded to give that thing a paint job, for the right baked goods. The black and grey really is a bit drab against the unicorn streamers”

He signaled he has done and Darcy snatched the tablet back clutching it to her chest, grievously offended.

“You’re gonna make me slave away in the kitchen on a broken foot? You cur!”

That earned her a smarmy wiggle of the eyebrows. “Former ‘Merchant of Death’ sweetheart.”

“Fine. Waddaya want?”

“Babka.”

She gaped at him. Babka!? Oh maybe he wanted a mille crêpe, and croquembouche too! God forbid he choose something too easy! Sure the communal kitchen had a ridiculously nice stand mixer, but babka was still a delicious pain in the ass to make.

“Your fabricator is going to get the workout of its life.”

~~~

A few days later Darcy rolled into the lounge on a glittering mass of metal and plastic. It was like if the sugar plum fairy had designed a scooter under the influence of psychedelics.

She’d never seen Tony so affronted.

She cackled just thinking about it “Behold my glorious monstrosity!”

Natasha looked up from her reading, expressionless but for a raised eyebrow “Not built for stealth I think.”

“Depends on location, it would blend right into the gumdrop kingdom.”

At that, the spy’s head lilted thoughtfully “Or burning man”

“EDM?”

“Coachella. Plenty of potential for hidden compartments. Metal construction. A bit unwieldy, but heavy enough to do damage.” Darcy bit her lip trying to contain a stupid grin. Damn, Natasha could be scary in the best possible way.

“Oh shit, am I giving you ideas?...Bruce said it wasn’t a toy.”

Her bland expression never wavered “Of course not, but everything is a potential tool.”

“Tools are supposed to fix stuff.”

“Tools are supposed to make problems go away, key difference.” Darcy watched the corners of her mouth curve into a wicked little smile, and went a little weak. Mother of god, did she have a type!?

That, or Natasha was just about everyone’s type.

“So everything is a potential ‘tool’ huh? Out of curiosity, how would you kill someone with an Easter egg? Beaded curtain? Deely boppers? Novelty dildo?”

Darcy heard her puff out a little breath, The closest thing she was probably going to get to a laugh “Should the situation ever arise, I’ll let you know.”

Natasha snapped her fingers, realizing something “Oh, actually those plastic Easter eggs are pretty great for impromptu smoke bombs if you’ve got the right stuff.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it seems kind of short, hopefully, the next one will be a bit better.  
Please leave a comment if you'd like, reading them really brightens my mood<3


	9. Everything is Fine*

Loki watched surreptitiously as Darcy entered the lounge area and eyed the broad couch with undisguised longing. The tension in her frame clearly denoting her pain. There was an unoccupied armchair, but the couch was best suited for sprawling, no doubt her intention. Unfortunately for her, he was rather comfortable exactly where he was. Injured or not, Loki found he wasn’t terribly inclined to accommodate her. She’d made a point of her indifference some time ago, and had been pointedly avoiding him for nearly a week. An insignificant slight, but irksome nonetheless. 

Undeterred by his presence she scooted over on her nightmarish abomination of pastel tires and iridescent paint and plopped gracelessly down on the couch. She turned and looked at him expectantly. 

“I can either prop it up on the arm or you” She motioned at her encased foot “but the foot needs to be elevated and I need to sit”

“I will not be reduced to your footstool ms. Lewis.” If he’d let his sneer show, she didn’t bother reacting. 

She shrugged before dropping into the cushions with a worn sigh, turning her body so that her leg was free to rest atop the arm of the couch and her back rested against his side. “Wouldn’t dream of it highness...” she touched her chin in a moment of contemplation smirking at him “weeeeeeell mayb-nah.” Caught his expression then shook her head. 

Loki resisted the temptation to gawk at her. Of course she’d acted overly familiar before, but she’d never possessed the gall or foolishness to be quite so bold, at least outside the context of certain activities. She was leaning on him like he was a piece of furniture! Had the sensation of her warm plush curves not been quite so pleasant against his side, he might have been compelled to express his displeasure. Loki tried to temper his annoyance, she was injured, nearly immobilized by her damaged foot, and he wasn’t one for unprovoked cru- 

“Pillow.” She grunted, motioning at the cushion tucked between his opposite side and the other arm of the couch. When Loki made no move to oblige her demand she looked up at him. When her eyes met his they widened in alarm. He could almost see the mental calculations and panic in her eyes when she remembered precisely who she was grunting at. 

She bit her lip, an embarrassed flush painting her from the tips of her ears to her chest. When she spoke again her words were quiet and rushed. “Er, could you please hand me a pillow?”

He could feel the way her body tensed against his side, awkwardly shrugging “I can be a bit of a diva when I’m sick or hurty. Lingering symptom of youngest child syndrome.”

Loki wondered if she’d seen the slightest indication that he cared in his face, or if she was simply content to carry on a conversation entirely on her own.

Loki watched her lips purse slightly in thought “On that note, I think I remember snapping at you post Hulk fiasco. I had just finished chewing out Banner and I was afraid I might angry word vomit all over you too.”

That caught his attention, Hulk fiasco? He had not been informed of anything, not that he was informed on anything remotely outside the purview of what Stark and the spider deemed him useful for. He wondered exactly what had transpired between her and the green monstrosity. Caught up in his thoughts he didn’t immediately notice Darcy’s eyes were fixed on his face. Further down her lips were quirked to the side. If he’d had to venture a guess, he might say she was chewing on the inside of her cheek. 

“Angry word vomit, not literal, but exactly as terrible as it sounds.” Her hands fluttered in the air dismissively, explaining the turn of phrase as if that had been the source of his confusion. 

“Hulk fiasco?”

She perked slightly, head tilting curiously “Wow! You didn’t notice? The shock dampening here must be incredible” Loki watched her scan her surroundings with newfound appreciation. “he did say Avengers proof. Kudos to Tony’s architecture I guess.”

Was she always this easily distracted? In some ways, this was the first conversation he’d had with her outside the context of prelude to, and post-sex chatter. It was proving more challenging than he’d anticipated to get the response he desired. He sighed, and tapped her arm gently to refocus her attention, luring her back to the subject at hand “Darcy.”

“Right right, Hulk fiasco.” He felt her shoulders hunch as she slumped further into the couch, and by extension him “Yeah, so Banner went all grrr in the lab last week. I freaked out. We took the elevator to the basement. He worked out his ya-ya’s and I was an idiot and broke my foot. Then word vomit happened. Last Tuesday was a bit of a shit show all around. Apparently, Tony can’t just zap the whole thing from my brain, some genius right? Oh he can build a super suit, but can’t make groundbreaking advancements in neuroscience? Pushaw! Anyways, it was all extremely unpleasant, and that is why I’m rocking the hideous club foot look.” 

Loki stiffened involuntarily. He’d thought she’d hobbled herself through sheer clumsiness and ill fortune. She’d faced the Hulk? Alone? While earth’s mighty Avengers were what? Chasing down mere men, trying to find the very scepter they’d lost? He exhaled, forcing the tension from his limbs. Loki despised being kept in the dark. Intelligence was one of the few powers that could not be ripped away from him, they’d known that and taken great pains to isolate him from whatever information they could. Even worse was the way Darcy tried to shrug it off, he’d seen her more animated over some tweet or unsatisfactory coffee. 

And what was this about an elevator? Of all the absurd-

“You really didn’t notice?” She could have been talking about the weather for all the gravity she gave it “It felt like the whole building was going to come down on my head at any moment, thinking about it now that was probably the panic.”

He supposed for her it had been a week since the incident. Still, she seemed far too dismissive of the matter. Banner could have easily ended her life and she was treating it as if he’d just had a petty tantrum. 

Loki felt heat on his shoulder as she leaned her head back, letting her eyes lazily slide shut. “Probably for the best, I’m pretty sure the Hulk hates your guts,” he felt her body shake in a nearly inaudible laugh “if he’d realized you were around you’d probably be in worse shape than me.” 

That was hardly the issue! He could recover, had recovered, from that abomination’s tender attentions. She could not. 

He looked down at her then, with a new sort of annoyance. This woman. This chaotic little imbecile. It irritated him how fragile she was, how oblivious. What concern of hers was his well being? When she’d so needlessly disregarded her own? 

And why, by all the twisted roots of Yggdrasil had she willingly gotten into an elevator with that horrid beast!? 

Loki dropped the pillow in her lap before clasping her shoulders and shifting her on the couch. She didn’t protest, she barely seemed to notice, letting him rearrange her like a limp doll. Apparently she was more exhausted than she appeared. Her back now rested on the cushioned arm. He waited as she settled adjusting herself till she could recline comfortably, tucking the pillow behind herself. Gently, he lifted her legs till they rested in his lap and examined the black, sticker dotted, plastic that encased one leg all the way up to her calf. When he chanced a glance at ms. Lewis she was contentedly sprawled, eyes closed, and seemingly oblivious to the world. However, on closer inspection, he could see signs of the lingering tension her discomfort caused. She was impossibly foolish, allowing herself to be so vulnerable in his presence, but hadn’t she always been? He supposed her brazenness during sex made it rather easy to forget how vulnerable she truly was in those moments. Still, this seemed different. Confounding, but largely irrelevant. Loki didn’t see the sense in lingering on it and began to deftly undo the straps on her brace. She didn’t even stir at the ripping sound of the Velcro, but he did hear a tiny sigh when he finally released her leg from its casing. The next moment she was wincing from the pain of involuntarily trying to wiggle her now freed toes. 

Loki began removing the soft bandages “What are you doing with my foot?”

She hadn’t moved but one eye was slit open and looking at him with suspicion. “Transforming it into a hoof.” 

“Oh” she closed her eye again, her head relaxing deeper into the cushions. “Well, I suppose that would make pedicures easier, just one toenail. One really big toenail. I don’t know about durability though, if I break it some poor soul’s gonna have to take me behind the barn and shoot me.” Loki paused mildly horrified, what was she on about?

“I don’t know if that’s a horse thing, or just an ol’ yeller thing...” Pop culture then, typical. 

Loki pulled away the last of the wrappings, revealing pale skin mottled with deep purple bruises and yet more bandages. A larger bandage was centered on top of her foot. The adhesive of the dressing was weak and he pulled it away, feeling her flinch ever so lightly at the sensation. In his peripheral vision, he could see she was chewing on the inside of her cheek again, clearly trying to contain her discomfort. 

“Earth is weird about mercy killings. Eh, mercy killings are weird in general.”

There was a short line of stitches, no longer then the tip of his thumb, that marred her skin. The dark filament of the stitches forming a row of gnarled looking knots. Clearly the damage was a little deeper than he’d initially thought. He prodded lightly reaching out with weak tendrils of magic investigating the damage.

Her leg jolted sharply “Hey! Owowowowow! Could you- titbiscuits that fucking hurts!”

He tried to pin her with a glare but her attention was obviously elsewhere “The ability to concentrate is preferable.” 

She quieted. While his magic was slow and laborious to do its work he still managed to get a thorough enough understanding of the damage. Small fractures littered the tip of her foot, three of the five toes noticeably broken. At the center of her foot beneath the stitches was the most damage, one of the metatarsals severely broken, it was clear now the stitches were a result of an invasive attempt to realign the nearly shattered bone. The whole thing was a rather graphic reminder of how crude midguardian medicine was. 

He heard Darcy grunt softly in discomfort “So are we going with two hooves, or stylistically asymmetrical?”

“Ms. Lewis.” 

She sighed “Right, shutting up now.”

Loki looked at the somewhat mangled foot contemplating his next move. He’d noticed in passing that his magic seemed to more readily heed his call in her presence. However, that may simply be a result of the fact that he rarely utilized it around anyone else. Even then it was rudimentary magic, the sort of thing that once came as easily as breathing. Manipulating living tissue was significantly more complex than a short teleportation or static illusion. Still, this was a fine opportunity to test the theory, and the woman currently sprawled across him and the couch seemed a willing enough test subject. Settling on his choice Loki captured her ankle in his left hand, immobilizing it as he urged magic into his right coiling it with surprising ease about his fingers. He chose one of the more minor fractures to begin with, closing the small fissure. He felt her tense in his grasp but no protest came. 

By the time he reached the most severe break she was shaking slightly, he didn’t bother looking up, it was obvious enough she was in pain. He knew well from experience having one’s bones manipulated, even slightly, was not a pleasant affair. Ms. Lewis was not the sort to keep her thoughts to herself. If the pain became too great she would not hesitate to voice her displeasure, likely attempt to kick him with her free leg, recalling how quick she was to take petty and entirely pointless retaliation when he goaded her, so he carried on. Loki found his indifference mildly surprising, given he was quite prone to what midguardians dubbed ‘schadenfreude’, he took no satisfaction in her suffering. Annoyed he began on the most severely damaged bone. When she finally let out a whimper at the escalating pain, Loki felt no gratification. It was unpleasant. 

As if her shuddering and pained breathing weren’t enough of a distraction Loki felt the weight of the Widow’s gaze heavy upon him. Up until this moment, she had seemed content to play at apathetic bystander. Pretending to ignore the entire affair. Now, even without looking, he could tell her attention was entirely on them. Curiously, she didn’t act even as Darcy tried to muffle a gasp of pain. One fragment needed to be twisted slightly into alignment, Loki found he did not relish what was about to come. He heard a strangled sob rip free from her lungs and she tried to curl in on herself, yanking violently on her trapped limb. He heard Romanoff shift, but the pain while intense was short lived. Darcy quieted to soft moans of pain and a nearly inaudible ‘what the fuck Loki?’. After that, it was less than a minute of knitting the fragments together before he finished his task. The bruising was lighter but still very present, but all of the bones were well mended. He released her foot, leaning back onto the couch slightly drained from the exertion. The toes on his lap cautiously wiggled. When he turned to look at their owner she was gaping at him. Her mouth snapped shut with a click. He watched her look at her foot then back to him, again at her foot before she finally spoke. 

“Did you just fix my foot?”

Loki took in her appearance. She was red-eyed, it was clear from light streaks of eyeliner and damp hair at her temples that she’d cried a great deal. Nearly silently. There was a light sheen of sweat beaded across her forehead and chest, likely from the effort of keeping quiet. It occurred to Loki that she might have been in considerably more pain than he first assumed. 

Which raised the question, why had she endured it? Surely, she knew she could have stopped him with a word?

“It would seem that way.”

“Why?” 

Boredom? To see if he could? To show just how inferior their medicine was? For whatever reason he’d simply felt like it, it wasn’t as if he had something better to do.

“So you no longer have an excuse to act like an entitled invalid, and so I never have to lay eyes upon that horrendous rolling contraption again.” 

She looked over at pastel monstrosity “So you’re not a fan of the scooter?”

Loki didn’t bother restraining a sneer “It is the unholy union of Hieronymus Bosch and my little pony.”

Darcy dissolved into laughter, actually snorting at one point. She wiped away the new tears, tears not of pain but of laughter he noted absently. 

“That has got to be the best thing you have ever said!”

Then she paused brows twisting in confusion. “Dutch painters, not too out there, but how do you know about my little pony?”

He heaved an exaggerated sigh “Tony insists on inundating me with Discord Memes.”

And the laughter was back, had he not been the cause of it he would’ve never guessed she’d been in writhing pain not five minutes ago “How does he- you know what, I don’t need to know.” 

Loki heard a quiet snort, in his peripheral vision he watched agent Romanoff gracefully extricate herself from the plush armchair and saunter off.

Darcy hadn’t stopped talking “Regardless of the motivation, you’ve just saved me weeks of pain and several more weeks of physical therapy. So you got an alter?” He watched her mime something nonsensical “Any preferred sacrifices? I can’t exactly give you a planet, but still, I’d like to offer my gratitude.” 

Her sincerity caught him off guard. “Truly? In that case, I favor buxom maidens and cinnamon rolls.”

“Buxom, sure. ‘Maiden’...hell, even if you were capable of time travel the age gap would be...even more disturbing. Any ‘maidens’ I do know are so for their own reasons, so no-“ she had lazily reclined back onto the armrest, speaking more to the ceiling than himself.

“You misunderstand, I have no interest in the inexperienced, certainly not the unwilling-“

“Maiden kinda denotes untouched, besides, virgins devoting themselves or being sacrificed to a God is kind of a thing across the board, in both pantheons and monotheism. Though personally, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to assume that at least some individuals used the gods as a justification for not being touched, because even in Ancient Rome people had to use the excuse of ‘I’ve got a boyfriend, and they’re a God’ for people to actually respect their choice-“ 

Loki was not unfamiliar with her Stream of consciousness ramblings but it continually surprised him the odd paths it would sometimes take. “What are you talking about?”

She looked back at him “Vestal Virgins, what are you talking about? Oh! You said cinnamon rolls! I assume you mean the baked good, not the internet version.” 

“Internet version?”

Her hands once again came to life, dancing along to her nonsensical tirade “You know someone sweet, adorable, precious? ‘Beautiful cinnamon roll too pure for this world, must protec’? At this point, I have no idea what corners of the internet you’ve been exposed to. Steve’s a total cinnamon roll, not that he needs protecting...well, I suppose that depends on your perspective. He walked in the other day while I was listening to ‘Drunk in Love’ he—you’re still holding my foot”

He let go and instead stilled her hands hoping her mouth might follow suit “Let me be clear ms. Lewis, the baked good and yourself would be acceptable tribute.”

“......at the same time?” He watched her face twist into an expression of confusion and slight...was that disgust?

“What?” Then the implication occurred to him and he had to suppress his own cringe as an extremely unwelcome image of Volstagg appeared in his mind “No.”

“Good, 'cause that’s not really my thing. Myself? I thought you’d lost interest, you’ve been ignoring me for like a week.”

“You’ve been wheeling around bemoaning the state of your foot-“

She raised an eyebrow “Which I don’t particularly need use of while I’m on my back.” 

His eyes drifted down, he’d had the same thought, but now found the reminder unwelcome.

Darcy remained unphased “Fair point, whining and Velcro covered club foot, not super sexy.”

“I assure you, I am still interested.” 

His tone captured her attention and when she met his eyes she was phased, swallowing noticeably before she spoke “...cool.”

“You two look cozy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one is a bit longer, hopefully a bit better. I hope y'all are enjoying things so far. Although I've begun to wonder if this still counts as PWP, nobody's been ravished in a while, and what is a plot really? I was never a great student of literature. I mean doesn't porn usually have a bit of a plot? You've got the inciting incident, the seduction, build-up, and climax. Is that a plot? It seems like a plot.
> 
> Anyhow, thank you for reading and please leave a comment if you're so inclined, they brighten my day<3


	10. Everything was not fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: First off, gosh I’m really sorry, please don’t hate me. The (*) in ch.9 was there for a reason. Second, heed the chapter title, I don’t know if I should put a trigger warning, just know that a panic attack doesn’t always look like a panic attack.

Pain is exhausting. 

Darcy had long been aware of that fact, she needed no reminders, but here she was living it once again. She’d spent the last week economizing movement, doing everything she could to minimize the time she spent exacerbating her injury. The lab was showing the lack of her usual care, as was Jane, but there was little Darcy could do in her current state. Her foot throbbed constantly and the more she tried to ignore it the more the pain seemed to seep into the rest of her body. Long story short most of the time she was miserable, immobile, more tempted by some real pain meds by the day, and when she wasn’t short-tempered she found herself utterly apathetic. 

Avoiding subjecting anyone else in the tower to this side of herself had become the world's most unpleasant marathon because if constant pain wasn’t exhausting enough, pretending she wasn’t in constant pain was nearly enough to make her relapse.

and the caramel drizzle on top of this venti sucktastic fuckaccino, Loki had seemingly lost interest in doing the do every other day so Darcy didn’t even have the momentary release of yummy orgasmic endorphins that she had begun to grow accustomed to. 

Darcy wanted to crawl into the sweet frosty embrace of a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and never come out.

but that wouldn’t be very productive, and Darcy felt like enough of a mooch already.

~~~

She hadn’t registered him even being in the room at first, a combination of pain and fatigue made her a little loopy. She had been trying so hard to act cheerful around the others but she may have come off more manic than anything. If Natasha had noticed the act she gave no indication. She’d only become aware of him when she fully entered the lounge and saw him colonizing the better part of the couch. 

Fine. Two could play at that, they’d see who was England and who was Spain.

It was odd when he moved her, the care with which he placed her feet on his lap. Especially after the offense he had taken at the suggestion of her resting her feet on him moments earlier. It was strange enough that she didn’t even think to protest when he began removing her brace. After all, for Loki odd was normal. Him acting like a normal well-adjusted dude was probably a sign of the coming of Ragnarok or some shit like that. He was almost gentle, still, his touch reignited the pain she had been trying to ignore. She snapped at him, but her fatigue robbed it of any real venom. When he said he’d transform her foot into a hoof she’d assumed he’d meant some illusionary shenanigans. Benign magic. 

So when the real pain came she was utterly unprepared. One moment it had just been the usual throbbing ache the next it had felt like he was driving a jagged spike of cold iron through her foot. Darcy was too exhausted to brace herself against the towering wave of panic that consumed her.

It hurts. 

He’s hurting me.

Why is he hurting me?

Why can’t I stop him?

Why can’t I scream!?

Why is Natasha just sitting there!? 

He’s hurting me.

He’s hurting me!

It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts 

It hurts

He’s hurting me

and I can’t stop him. 

It felt like a cold fist had closed around her throat. Trapping the screams that were now ricocheting, amplifying to a shrill cacophony inside her, barely a whimper escaping through the choking grip. A blind panic paralyzed her, rendering her a helpless prisoner in her own body. She felt searing tears cut paths from the corners of her eyes to her temples. She felt a cold sweat break out across her skin and her muscles seize, and just as she thought she could take no more it came.

Every nerve ending in her foot screamed in agony.

And then, in the space between one heartbeat and the next, it was over. The pain was gone. Not just his pain, but the throbbing ache that had followed her for days, gone. Leaving nothing but a dull soreness, like that of an overworked muscle, in its place. 

It was over. 

The overwhelming relief was disorienting. A dizzying manic haze overtook her. She was laughing, unable the find a middle ground between the extreme emotions. Terror mingled with hysteria, and Darcy barely registered the nonsense that poured out of her mouth. Her hands spazzed out as she carried on about my little pony, alters, time travel, and human sacrifices. What was she even saying? Why couldn’t she stop talking? The pain was over. Why couldn’t her brain just work!? 

She felt the weight and warmth of his hand around her ankle. It was so wrong, so completely fucked, how pleasant it felt. This was the exact same hand that had held her, trapped her, when she thrashed out just to get away from the pain. Pain he caused! Pain he healed. Because he felt like it? The two extremes played havoc with her thoughts. She didn’t even notice when more people entered the room. She didn’t even pull away from him. Should she have pulled away from him? 

Loki was...

She should have never let her awareness slide the way it had. Loki was chaos, Loki hurt people, but he made it so easy to simply gloss over every ugly horrible thing he’d done. New York was still recovering from the destruction he rained down on it. The world was still coming to terms with what that attack had revealed, that there was intelligent life outside of earth and it wasn’t all friendly. He’d killed so many people. Tried to kill her best friend! He’d tried to kill her! Well not specifically her, no, she had just been another insignificant ant in the New Mexico desert fleeing from his flaming death ray. Nothing more than collateral damage from an angry boy toying with his magnifying glass, burning the insignificant lives he could just as easily step on. 

But he wasn’t. 

That couldn’t be all he was. 

Could it?

He’d healed her. Knowingly or not, he’d spared her from a panic attack (and caused another). He was charming and beautiful, powerful and intelligent, gentle and mischievous. Intoxicating. Pleasure didn’t erase pain, but it made it so much easier to forget. 

He could be just as generous with pleasure as he was with cruelty. Every bit the capricious god mythology painted him to be. 

Fucking with the gods comes with a price. It hardly takes a genius to know that. 

Was she an idiot?

Darcy’s system was completely overwhelmed by what had just happened, she felt unstable. Furious with herself for not being able to get her head in order. She should have excused herself. Left before manic unstable Darcy had a chance to take this situation from overwhelming, to completely FUBAR. Darcy should have left. She didn’t. 

“You two look cozy.” It was a familiar voice, but she had never heard it thick with such raw hostility. Never directed at her. 

She and Clint teased each other. Lobbed the occasional death threat at each other. They shared a similar appreciation for gallows humor and poor taste. She thought they got along, but the man who was glaring daggers down at her was a complete stranger. She’d seen serious Clint. She’d seen the decisive capable agent. She’d even seen him angry, but never at her. Darcy didn’t understand, and she did not need this in her life right now. 

“Wow, tone much? Who took a shit in your coffee?” She tried to glare right back, but she was so confused. Too much going on in her head at once. She didn’t want to fight. 

“Look, he fixed my foot!”

“Darcy, get away from him.” Clit made to grab her but she flinched away involuntarily. She didn’t want to be grabbed. 

She wasn’t supposed to be afraid of Clint! He was a gruff dude sure, but he would never hurt her. She was just overwhelmed. What she should and shouldn’t be afraid of muddled in her mind “What?”

Clint was not a threat. He had not hurt her. Loki had, but Loki had healed her. His legs were warm and steady under her calves, and Clint looked so, so angry.

“Do you need to be reminded who he is? What he’s capable of!?”

No. 

No, she did not need a reminder. 

She just wanted him to stop glaring at her “He’s capable of fixing my foot. Look, I can wiggle my toes! What’s your problem?” 

“My problem is that you’re curled up on the couch, fraternizing with a homicidal sociopath! That you let him use that hoodoo magic fuckery-“ Let? She hadn’t let “-on you! Do you have any idea what he could do?” 

She didn’t. Not even Thor had a comprehensive answer for what Loki’s magic could do. She knew there was animosity between Loki and Clint, there was animosity between Loki and just about everyone, but she didn’t know all the details. That didn’t explain why he was so angry at her. She was just sitting there, she was hardly ‘curled up’ with him, only the backs of her legs resting on top of his lap, this was nothing, this was-

“Wow okay. If you’re this concerned with me ‘fraternizing’ with Loki, cuddles on the couch is the least of your worries.”

That was the wrong thing to say. She saw Clint’s jaw clench and worried he might crack a molar. “You’re fucking-“

“Periodically.” She didn’t see the sense in lying about it, but a small slightly more functional portion of her brain knew she could have broken the news a bit more diplomatically, maybe let him finish his sentence. The same part that suggested she should have left. It was a real shame that part of her brain wasn’t at the control panel right now. 

Under any other circumstance, the look of horror on Clint’s face might have been funny. It wasn’t funny, but an unwelcome laugh tumbled out of her regardless. Panicked tears pricked at the corners of her eyes because apparently the universe thought she hadn’t already made enough of a mess of her eyeliner, she needed to complete her dumpster fire transformation. Darcy wanted to disappear. She wanted to forget the last hour ever happened and go back to being Jane’s quirky lab fairy. Funny harmless insignificant Darcy, everyone tolerated her just fine. 

“Wait, Loki is Lestaty-Mcbiterson?” All eyes turned to Tony and Darcy could have kissed him for freeing her from their scrutiny even if it was just for a moment. It was like she was able to take the first real breath she’d had in what felt like hours. 

“Care to elaborate?” Natasha’s voice was as smooth and even as it always was. The only barely visible sign of her consternation was a slight whitening of her knuckles where her arms folded across her chest. 

“Was I the only one who noticed the omnipresent hickeys on our resident baker?” He wasn’t. Suddenly Darcy very much wished she was wearing a turtleneck. She hadn’t even been with him in a week but bruises had a way of lingering on pale skin, and Loki was well aware that her neck was a bit of a weak spot and rarely hesitated to use that information to his advantage. It was a small mercy she wasn’t wearing shorts. 

“Darcy, what were you thinking?” Clint’s judgment made the knot of anxiety in her gut twist tighter. 

Thinking? That was kind of hilarious given that all of this started with her desperate desire to stop thinking. Something she longed for even more now. Her legs felt warm. He was touching her again, resting his hands in his lap, and by extension on her legs. When had he moved? She’d hardly noticed. It was an innocent enough point of contact, which made it all the more foreign, usually when they touched there was nothing innocent about it. 

“What was I thinking? First of all, I’d like everyone in the room who hasn’t made one questionable choice in the matter of sexual partners to raise their hand. Steve? You’re not raising your hand.” 

“Oh!...um” Steve froze, a look of extreme discomfort written clearly across his face. Well shit. That was a landmine she was not expecting. Sorry Steve.

“Never mind don’t worry about it. Right. Seeing as how you could practically do a case study on questionable choices with the people in this room. I mean if you put aside the problematically small sample size...fuckin’ SCIENCE. Not relevant right now Darcy.” She smacked her forehead in frustration. Just stop. Just. Stop. Talking. But she couldn’t “Anyways, I don’t think anyone in this room is in any position to pass judgment on another person's choices, especially something as trivial as sex. I’m sorry but when in the history of EVER has fantastic sex ever made someone MORE evil? Have you even heard of incels? I’m not about to posit that it’s made anyone less evil, but it would be remiss not to mention that there have been significantly fewer stabbings lately. I’m not suggesting correlation equals causation, but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a part of me that really wants to take credit. Thor, when was the last time he stabbed or otherwise maimed anyone?”

“Not for several months now.” Thor looked positively chuffed. Apparently acquiring a fuck buddy and not murdering anyone for a while was enough to make him beam with pride at Loki. Points for being a supportive bro Thor. 

“MONTHS!?” Clint looked like he might choke on his own tongue. 

“You do realize how dangerous this is Darcy?” Natasha had relaxed some but did not look happy. The bit about ‘questionable choices’ probably hadn’t endeared her to anyone. 

Just leave Darcy. Just stand up on your fancy newly healed foot, thank everyone for their not at all judgmental concern and go. 

“I disagree.”

Fuck. 

“He’s not an idiot. By my observation, he kills people for one of two reasons, 1: strategic advantage, any inconvenience or obstacle? Death is a pretty permanent and immediate solution. 2: Fun. Now, seeing as how I am way too damn weak to present any sort of challenge in that regard, is it safe to assume killing me holds little to no entertainment value?” WHY? How was she even still talking? She couldn’t even remember breathing. The tightness in her chest and head made it feel like she was starved of oxygen. What? Did she not need air to royally fuck shit up? What a talent! 

“You’re far more entertaining alive.” oh my, what glowing praise. 

“He uses people Darcy, he could use you” Natasha's tone was a calculated sort of gentle. Everything from her cadence to her body language poised to say ‘be reasonable Darcy, listen Darcy’. Loki did much the same thing, to far different effect, but the core intention was the same. To shape another’s perception to what suited them. Part of Darcy wished she’d never learned to notice that sort of thing. Regardless of intention manipulation was still manipulation. 

“To what? Annoy people into submission? Make bad coffee? Let’s be real, I’m not exactly essential staff around here. I’d be a pretty fucking useless pawn.” Her mouth was on auto-fire, she wasn’t even angry at them. Frustrated maybe, that they all seemed convinced she was a helpless moron... Maybe they were right, she was sure doubling down on the stupid. 

Clint Thrust his hand at her. She could see raised veins along his arm, watch his anger manifest physically. “He’s already using her!”

“Sure, but that’s mutual.” Fuck! Really mouth? Not helping. 

“Just stop.” It was barely a whisper, she wasn’t sure if she said it to herself or them. What was the point anyway, she couldn’t dig herself much deeper. She’d already dug her grave, might as well have a magnificent headstone. 

She turned to Loki. “Highness, a boon?”

When she met his gaze she could see a quiet amusement there. At least someone was having fun. He lifted a brow in acknowledgment and she took it as a sign to go on.

“A dramatic exit, if you would.” 

She watched his face split in a mischievous grin, one surprisingly free of malice, and felt as one of his arms hooked under her knees and the other snaked its way across her back. Still holding her he stood with no visible effort, the passive demonstration of strength sparking very mixed feelings in her. She supposed it was only fitting that a prince might carry her like a princess but Darcy wondered if she was actually jumping into the claws of the dragon. Not that it mattered much, any happily ever after seemed pretty fucking unlikely after this fiasco. “As you wish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So quarantine is really getting to me, I’ve been out the job for basically two months. I miss my paycheck. I miss my students. I haven’t been able to accomplish the things I need to, and I've basically devolved into a sad moldy couch potato. So posting chapters is the closest I’ve been to “productive” in a while. Yes, I’m a slow writer, but at least I’m writing! So thank you for reading, for your lovely comments, and for helping me reach 200 kudos! It’s very validating🐰💕
> 
> I'm a little worried this chapter didn't go the direction a lot of folks were hoping for, but it was kinda already in my head before I even posted ch. 9. A shift in perspective can really turn things on their head, and a massive disparity in power can make it hard to understand where another person is coming from. Even benevolence can feel like cruelty when you have no understanding of whats going on, or say in the matter. Like trying to explain to your dog why you're taking them to the nightmare place of linoleum floors, stinky antiseptic, and needles (aka the vet).


	11. An Imperfect Reprieve

Darcy was surprised she didn’t flinch at the sudden sensation of magic across her skin. The writhing mass of hysteria and anxiety was still constricting inside her making it hard to breathe but that was hardly a new development. She wanted to be sick, somehow purge these feelings from inside her, but knew relief wouldn’t come that easily. With great effort, she forced herself to take a slow deliberate breath before she spoke. 

“At the risk of sounding spoiled, may I ask another favor?”

Loki flashed her a magnanimous smirk “ask away ms. Lewis.”

“Can I borrow your shower for a bit?”

By the look on his face, it was clearly not the request he'd anticipated “Oh, of course.”

Darcy didn’t hold back the sigh of relief “Oh thank god!” She shrugged one shoulder half amused at herself “...you, in this case, I guess.”

She was already stripping off her loose cardigan and kicking off her one shoe as she shuffled over to the bathroom, which she found was significantly larger and more luxurious than her own. Why the hell was he getting the royal treatment? I mean sure, he was technically royalty, but he was supposedly on earth to do penance for his literal crimes against humanity! It was like house arrest at the Ritz hotel, the injustice of it! It wasn’t worth getting upset over at the moment and Darcy tried to refocus on the task at hand. She looked around Loki’s lavish Lavatory, it was relatively normal apart from some exotic looking bottles and jars, unhelpfully labeled with runes.

“Anything in here hazardous to mere mortals?”

Loki was leaning against the doorframe, looking vaguely offended “Ms. Lewis, precisely what is it you think I do in the shower?”

She shimmied her t-shirt off over her head and proceeded to twist her mussed hair up into a somewhat messy topknot securing it with a lightly chewed on pencil. Stylish? No. Effective? Yes. “Naked monologuing? Honestly, I have no clue but I’m fairly certain you do it naked.”

She caught his reflection smiling in the mirror, still lurking in the doorway. “Care for a demonstration?”

Darcy was well beyond any capacity to care about his apparent voyeuristic tendencies, as she leaned into the shower to turn on the tap. Tony Stark’s plumbing may be excellent but she was looking for a temperature just shy of scalding and it would take a moment for the water to heat up. “Tempting, but seeing as how I’ve barely got the energy to stand I’m gonna have to turn you down.”

“There is a bath.” There was, luxuriously deep and large enough for her to lay down with her legs fully extended. At some point a tub stops being a bathtub and starts being a hot tub, this one sat right at the cusp. A bit excessive if you asked her. 

Still, it seemed oddly accommodating of Loki, given every other time she’d been in his room it had been for one purpose, and one purpose alone. Regardless, she wasn’t about to turn down the offer, a luxurious soak in the tub sounded like just what the doctor ordered. She sat on the edge of the tub waiting for it to fill. “and you don’t mind a filthy mortal occupying it for an indeterminate amount of time?” 

For a while she simply sat there absently dipping her toes in the shallow steaming water. She watched steam slowly fog the edges of the large mirror. In it she saw Loki casually cross his arms. 

He tilted his head appraisingly to the side “At the risk of sounding like I care, are you quite alright?” 

She laughed as she shucked off her slightly mismatched skirt. The foot had really limited what she could put on without too much pain, unfortunately, that excluded all of her pants. “That would be a resounding no. I’m pretty sure I insulted my boss’s pseudo boss, alienated some of the most dangerous people on the planet, and I now know what it feels like to have my bones twisted inside my body. Other than that though,” Darcy flung the skirt where the t-shirt had landed. Oh, that’s right, she had dinosaurs on her panties today, at least the purple stegosaurus kinda matched her bra. Not that it mattered. “I’m positively peachy.” 

She went to unlatch her bra and nearly laughed as she saw Loki avert his eyes! He was intently studying the towel rack when he started speaking again. “…I see, the blue is a mild all over cleanser.”

She picked up the bottle in question and gave it a sniff. It smelled good. Botanical, with a pleasant hint of petrichor, like if you could make a perfume capturing the very best parts of the forest. It smelled like Loki, but more concentrated and lacking the ever present undertone of frost. 

“Glass bottles? I knew you liked to live dangerously, but damn” Darcy wasn’t entirely sure if he’d heard her. He’d finally vacated the bathroom doorway, but only halfway closed the bathroom door. Whatever. 

Darcy chucked her bra and panties into the same corner as the rest of her things and lowered herself into the tub. As she let her body float in the steaming pool she decided that actually, this was the perfect size for a tub. She forced all the air out of her lungs and felt her body sink deeper into the water, then inhaled, rising to the surface again. She wasn’t sure how long she spent slowly bobbing to the rhythm of her breath before her heart rate slowed to a slightly more reasonable tempo. She tried to slow her mind with it, but it was less cooperative, unhelpfully flashing reruns of her very questionable actions again and again each time pointing out a new fuck up. 

Darcy sat up in the tub, reaching for the blue bottle and pouring a little into her palm. She tried to focus on the scent, on the task of washing the lingering sweat from her skin one limb at a time. She tried to shrink her world into just a series of small tasks, one after the other. 

She really did try. 

“fuuuuuuuuuuuuck” she groaned pressing her face into her knees.

She heard Loki’s voice through the crack in the door. “Am I safe in assuming that is not a request?”

Her skin felt clean, her body as refreshed as it could be given the day she was having, but her brain stubbornly refused to settle. Her thoughts weren’t exactly racing anymore. Instead it was long stretches of detached dread interrupted by brief but intense bouts of ‘What the fuck am I going to do? What the fuck did I just do? Why the fuck am I like this?’ and such. It majorly sucked and if Loki was offering a distraction, then- “fuck it, why not?”

Darcy stood, and carefully stepped out of the tub. She decided to forgo the towel and putting her still sweaty clothes back on and instead reached for a deliciously plush looking terrycloth robe. Forest green with little gold accents, typical. It was the coziest thing she had ever put on her body. The fabric was thick and heavy, nothing like her own cheap fleece bathrobe. The sleeves extended well past the tips of her fingers, and the hem dragged across the floor as she stepped into the bedroom. It was everything wonderful about wearing her favorite oversized hoodie x100. 

She found Loki sitting on the far side of the bed, leaning against the headboard with a small leather bound book in one hand. She flopped gracelessly onto the bed. 

“I want to be buried in this robe.” Which was funny because she kinda wanted to di—nope, not gonna let that bullshit accelerate her downward spiral. 

Loki looked down at her sprawled form. “A bit informal for my taste.” 

“What, are you scared ghost you will end up stuck wearing whatever you were buried in, and that being stuck in a bathrobe for all eternity would make it hard to be an adequately terrifying ghost?” 

He set his book down, and brought one graceful hand to his temple. Then, as if speaking to a particularly dense child “I can safely say I’ve never given the matter any thought.”

“Not even now?”

“I have no intention of becoming a ghost any time soon.”

“Most people don’t.” Shit, her brain was gravitating towards extremely unhelpful territory again. Nope! Better to have NO thoughts, than THOSE thoughts. Fortunate for her the solution for that was just on the other side of the bed.

Darcy rolled over onto her hands and knees and crawled over to Loki. He was eyeing her curiously but nothing in his expression or posture said ‘back off’ so she swung a leg over his thighs and settled in his lap.

Darcy leaned forward nuzzling the patch of skin just below his ear. She took a delicate whiff, and found she was right “heh, I smell like you.”

Loki settled a hand across her back and drew her body closer to his, burying his face in her cleavage. His breath tickling her skin. “indeed.” 

~~~

“I smell like you.” 

The four words had an interesting effect on Loki. After seeing the way she’d crumpled in on herself mere moments after they’d arrived in his room, he’d felt his desire for her body ebb away. It wasn’t like her to look so...defeated. Hardly what he’d expected after the sound verbal lashing she’d given earth’s ‘avengers’ not five minutes earlier. She’d left them all speechless. Not an insignificant feat, especially given Stark’s propensity for quipping. 

She hadn’t been ashamed. Hadn’t hesitated to take ownership of her choices, of her involvement with him. Ms. Lewis clearly wasn’t oblivious to the danger he posed, she wasn’t a fool. In mere moments she’d shattered any possibility of him using the knowledge of their connection against her, he couldn’t blackmail her, she simply did not care. Loki wasn’t her dirty little secret. She didn’t feel the need to hide. 

I smell like you.

She was wrapped in his colors, the dark green contrasting her milky skin in a way that made it seem to glow under the soft light. Her sweet scent intertwined with the familiar fragrance of his soap. Water droplets lingered on her skin like crystals and dripped from her still damp hair down the pale column of her neck. There ms. Lewis sat in his lap, a feast for the senses, and Loki found he could hold back no longer. He pressed his face into the beckoning valley between her breasts and filled his lungs with this new intoxicating concoction. 

“Indeed.” Pressed against her he could feel the nearly inaudible laughter in her chest. 

That base desire was once again burning deep in his gut, straining the seam of his pants. He wanted her warm lush body wrapped around him, the way his robe wrapped snug around her. He wanted to be written onto every inch of her soft skin. A possessive urge to claim her surged through his veins, and he lowered his hand from her back to the generous curve of her ass and pressed her down against his growing need. 

She groaned softly and rolled her hips against his. The bottom of the robe was nearly pulled open by their positions, but the sight of her bare core pressed against his clothed erection was still hidden behind draped fabric. She ran a hand low across his abdomen, hooking under his shirt, pushing it up to expose his stomach and waistband. Delicate fingers tugged impatiently at the closure, and after a short struggle, finally released his straining cock. Her hands were still warm and rosy from the hot bath, and the way the heat of her fingers caressed his cock forced a quiet sigh past his lips. She traced her fingers teasingly along his length. Loki’s grip on her ass grew firmer, silently urging her to do more. He felt her hand wrap around the base of his cock, her thumb stroking the sensitive underside as she drew her hand up his length. She shifted her hips slightly so that his shaft was pressed against her slit and began to rock her hips. The sensation eased the growing tension, but Loki found she was not nearly wet enough for his liking. He wanted her flushed and slick, wanted to feel her desire for him dripping down her thighs. Loki raised his hand and traced his fingers down her back, pausing where her spine met her coccyx. There he worked his fingers in slow deliberate circles, adjusting the pressure till he felt her rhythm stutter and the muscles of her inner thighs jolt. He pressed a hungry kiss against her clavicle slowly working his way up to her throat and raised his other hand to the back of her neck. With practiced fingers he worked the tension from her muscles, grinning as he felt her go slightly limp, melting against him till their bodies were pressed flush together. He heard her sigh softly, her breath ghosting across his skin. Loki moved his hips beneath her dragging the length of his cock up and down her slit, pleased as her slick arousal began to coat his growing need. Better, but not enough. He gently nipped her earlobe, tugging lightly on the flesh to draw her attention. 

He wrapped his hands around her thighs and lifted her off his lap “a little higher if you would.” 

She kissed him as she rose onto her knees. The changing angle forcing him to tilt his head back to accommodate her. Her hands had found their way into his hair, and she held him there as she dragged her tongue along the seam of his lips. Loki found he didn’t mind these petty shows of dominance, found he rather enjoyed the way she sometimes tugged on his scalp demandingly, and wondered if that was a new development. 

With her hips raised, he had better access to the blushing flesh between her thighs. He ran his fingers along her slit thoroughly coating them in the accumulating nectar. She moaned softly into the kiss as he expertly worked the lips of her sweet cunt. He felt her entrance clench, her inner muscles coaxing him to deepen his touch. He’d oblige, soon. Loki slid his tongue against hers, tracing along the roof of her mouth before pulling away to break the kiss. He leaned down flicking her nipple with his tongue, before drawing it into his mouth and sucking on the delicate peak. 

Finally he sunk one finger into her waiting depths, plunging it in again and again. Her muscles pulsed around the digit demanding more and he added a second finger as he let her feel his teeth close around her hardened nipple. In his peripheral vision, he saw her reach for his free hand, felt as she wrapped her fingers around his wrist. She guided it between her legs as she dragged her lips up his neck. 

“My clit, you tease.” She punctuated her demand by trapping his earlobe between her tongue and canine, pressing the sharp point into his flesh. 

He chuckled. “Feeling impatient ms. Lewis?”

She rearranged herself slightly. Bracing one hand on his shoulder, and looked at him hungrily as she laved her pink tongue across the palm and fingers of the other hand. He watched the hand, now glistening with her saliva, sink between their bodies and wrap around his cock. She worked it up and down mirroring the rhythm of his fingers and teased the leaking tip, smearing his precum over the tip of his cock. She stroked him over and over, stoking the fire in his belly, before abruptly pulling her hand away. 

“You’re not?” She met his eyes challengingly. 

Loki added a third finger and felt her insides clench around the additional thickness. He pressed them deeper till his knuckles met her slick folds and curled them inside her. “You’re trying to provoke me. I’m afraid you’re a few centuries too early for that my dear.”

He was pleased to find she was slightly less articulate when she next spoke, her words broken up by a delicious series of stifled moans “Oh this is not me trying, however if I’m ever compelled to try-“ she twisted his nipple slightly “I think you’ll find I’m quite effective.” 

Loki traced a circle around her clit with his thumb before applying more direct pressure, he heard her gasp above him. “Noted. Would you like to cum ms. Lewis?” 

She ground her hips down onto his hand as she hissed out a hungry “yesss” such an honest girl.

He curled his fingers rhythmically inside her, rubbing her g-spot as he continued to tease her clit. He felt her other hand drop to his shoulder as her hips grew weak to his ministrations. He felt her pulse around his fingers, her inner walls grow slicker with her impending release. She panted slightly above him, her hot breath fanning across his brow. 

Her grip tightened on his shoulders, at the same time he felt her cunt tighten around his fingers with a strangling force. This was what he’d wanted, slick juices coating her slit, covering the walls of her still trembling channel, and dripping from his fingers down his wrist. He slowed his fingers, keeping them inside her as she rode out the aftershocks of her orgasm. 

A little weak from her climax Darcy leaned against him, and rested her head in the crook of his neck. His robe had come loose in the fray and slipped off her shoulder to pool at the crook of her elbow. Loki looked at her and found there was a hint of divinity, it was in the way her lips parted with unsteady breath, the way the fabric draped around her reminiscent of Grecian statuary, for all the realms she could have been a divine effigy to hedonism. Lust roared in him, demanding he pay proper tribute with skin against skin, mingled sweat, and her cries of ecstasy. It was an absurd notion, but a tempting one and with barely a thought he banished his clothes. In that moment Loki wanted nothing more than to feel her, to be inside her, to have her. With one hand he guided her hips back down to his throbbing cock, as he slowly pulled his fingers from her, dragging out the motion so he could feel the way her muscles cinched around him, protesting the loss of fullness and trying to pull him back in. He felt her shudder and moan against him and wished to drink in every sound. His lips found hers and with his tongue, he coaxed more sounds from her. A stream of hungry moans between them. 

Loki broke the kiss only long enough to say “Take me.” and then guided the head of his cock to her beckoning cunt. 

And she did, beautifully. Inch by inch he slid into her. His diligence rewarded when he felt how deliciously wet she was as her body engulfed his cock. He could feel the evidence of her arousal dripping down his shaft. It was exquisite torture drawing it out like this, but worth every moment when he felt the sweet relief of being buried to the hilt inside her. Loki felt her muscles ripple around him, and the humid warmth of her breath against his neck. It was so perfectly, unbearably hot, he felt the heat of their combined bodies might ignite at any moment. Perfection. A quiet part of Loki wished it would never end. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body against him and sighed contentedly at the contact of skin against skin. 

Loki felt Darcy’s arms snake around him. Her fingertips gliding up his ribs till they came to rest at his shoulder blades. He felt her tighten around his cock at the same time her nails bit into his back. Her muscles pulsed rhythmically around him and Loki felt his self-control waver. She groaned as she rolled her hips as much as she could manage with his arms binding her to him. She growled low into his ear, and spoke “Loki, you can either fuck me proper or not at all.” 

Fucking Jörmungandr this cursed woman would be the end of him!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah and steamy tidings the smut has returned! Whew, things got a little heavy there for a minute, good thing Darcy has her special way of coping with stress ;) 
> 
> (okay funny random story, I once had a tiny freak out because I accidentally sent a winky face emoji instead of a smiley one and was worried that it was WAAYYY too flirtatious, like 'OMFG did I just sext!? shitshitshitshit unsend!' and my friend just looked at me like 'Hun, you down to your last brain cell or something? a winky face is not even close to sexting. Calm. The. Fuck. Down.' to this day I still almost never use winky faces. This is a special exception because I just wrote, what? around 800+ words about fingering...holy shit. Holy Fucking Cannoli this fic is like 40,000 words and a significant portion of that is porn. The longest thing I've ever written is basically erotica and I can't even fucking make eye contact with attractive people without turning into an awkward tomato! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME???)
> 
> ...anyhoo, writing smut from a male perspective (let alone Loki’s, cause he’s all fancy and shit) continues to be extremely challenging, but I gave it my best shot. I’m super duper curious, I have to confess: subconsciously I kind of assumed most of the people reading this lean towards the feminine end of the spectrum, is anyone reading this male? non-binary? Genderfluid like Loki?
> 
> As always, thank you for reading <3


	12. Properly Improper

It was official, Darcy was going to lose her mind. What had gotten into him? Loki was many things, ‘tender’ was not one of them. Of course he was gentle when he wished to be, but only for the purpose of teasing her till she could take no more and practically clawed at him demanding release. However, this was different. Loki was never really the ‘wham! bam thank you ma’am’ type, but it was never anything more than sex between them. This was...well, sex sure, but something about the reverence of his touch, an aching gentleness, was more...it felt far too close to intimacy. It did nothing to banish the uneasy tightness in her chest, if anything, it made it worse. Darcy didn’t want this agonizingly convincing performance of ‘lovemaking’. She didn’t want soft slow kisses or his lingering embrace, at least not at this very moment. Darcy wanted Loki to fuck her brains out so she stop thinking long enough to reboot them. 

She flexed, tightening around him, and pressed her short nails into the firm muscles of his back. Loki needed to quit the goddamn Romeo act and FUCK HER INTO THE MATTRESS. Her frustration slipped out as a growl, no longer concerned with sounding spoiled Darcy hissed in his ear “Loki, you can either fuck me proper or not at all.” 

In a heartbeat, her back was pressed into the mattress, Loki above her. The intensity of his gaze might have made her blush if she wasn’t already flushed all over from the scalding bath and recent orgasm. His hand gripped her thigh, fingers pressing into her skin as he raised her leg. She felt her muscles protest slightly at the stretch, but it was an intoxicating sensation that signaled Loki was done with playing at puppy love. He lavished hot open mouthed kisses up her calf to the inside of her knee before hooking her knee over his shoulder. As he leaned over her she was forced to stretch further and didn’t bother holding back her moan. The position severely limited the movement of her hips giving him full control of their pace. Strategic fucker, literally. Darcy didn’t mind that he took control though, because the relentless barrage of sensation was exactly what she’d been hoping for. 

“Fuck yes Loki!” 

With her legs spread wide there was no hiding from the noises their bodies made. The obscene wet sound of him thrusting into her drenched pussy over and over. The slap of skin on skin and exerted breathing. Several locks of his hair had fallen forward and Darcy watched them sway with every movement. The moan she let out was broken by his relentless thrusts. Darcy tangled her fingers in the plush bedding, searching for something to grip for purchase. All of it bordered on too much, and that was exactly what she needed. Darcy lost herself in the onslaught, allowed herself this momentary surrender, and fuck it felt good. 

Eventually she released the sheets and gripped him instead. Darcy slid her hands down his sides, past the elegant line of his obliques and settled on his ass. She felt his muscles flex with every driving motion. Buns of steel indeed. The temptation was too much for Darcy to take and she gave in and slapped his perfect ass. Her palm stung a little but she was simply too delighted at her own audacity to mind. Darcy Lewis had just spanked a god! A stupid grin took over her face, forcing her eyes into slits, when it finally receded she could see Loki looking down at her, the grin on his face was nothing short of wicked. Oh fuck. 

Loki slowed his rhythm and let her knee fall to the crook of his elbow. “My dear ms. Lewis, what was it you said, that I ‘set the biting precedence last time’? I don’t think it’s unreasonable to assume the law of transference applies in this case, do you?” 

She felt the mattress dip where his hands came to brace his weight on either side of her head. He was so close, their noses barely an inch apart. Loki was giving whole new meaning to the term ‘eye fucking’ and as it turns out, Darcy was wrong, she could blush more. The bright pink glow she was emitting might even be visible from space. She swallowed nervously “Are you going to spank me?” 

Loki held her gaze, letting her squirm at the possibilities before raising up and sliding his hands down to grip her by the waist. He flipped her in one efficient motion and Darcy found herself on her knees, ass up, and braced on her elbows. She hardly had time to think before Loki was sliding back into her inch after inch after inch. When he was fully seated inside her he leaned over her. The heat from his body radiating against her back. 

Darcy shuddered as she felt his lips brush her ear “I think the better question is, are you going to stop me?” 

Darcy’s cheeks burned. This was not at all what she had intended when she slapped his ass, she’d just wanted to spank his perfect buns. That said, she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea. Turnabout was fair play, but Loki’s hands were significantly larger than hers. Loki’s hands...fuck. Curse him and his forsaken magical hands! Face still burning she shook her head ‘no’ she probably should stop him, but she wouldn’t. 

“Hmm” He stroked his hands thoughtfully up her thighs pushing the fabric of his robe up over her ass, making her skin tingle in anticipation “you do make quite the tempting picture.” His hands continued up, fingertips tracing the skin of her back, and Darcy couldn’t suppress her shiver.

Always teasing, always toying with her. It made for some fantastic sex, but in those moments when he made her wait, left her hanging in suspense, it drove her mad! Loki’s feather light touches only served to make her skin more sensitive, so that when he finally did strike the feeling would be that much sharper. That’s what Loki did, he wound her up and pushed over the edge, and she might resent him for it if the fall wasn’t so damn sweet. To let go of reason, worry, and thought. To just feel. For all his faults, Loki offered an escape few else could. Darcy arched her back, tilting her hips to take him deeper and he rewarded her by stroking her bowed back. His hands were large, palms warm and steady against her skin. He pressed one against her low back, his thumb massaging that spot at the base of her spine that made her hips go weak. At his encouragement, she sunk further into the bed resting her head on her forearms and spread her thighs wider.

“Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Darcy tightened involuntarily anticipating the crack of his hand across her ass “have you missed this? Taking my cock deep into that insatiable little cunt of yours?”

He drove into her till his hips pressed flush against hers. In the new position her breasts brushed against the sheets with every movement and the friction made her already sensitive nipples harden further. She’d told Loki to fuck her proper, and he was giving her that and more. Darcy groaned. She could feel him inside her, cock pressing against her inner walls, filling her up over and over, driving every thought but pleasure out of her mind. 

Darcy had known it was coming, but it still caught her off guard when he smacked her ass. Her surprised yelp was muffled against the skin of her arms. “Ms. Lewis I do believe I asked you a question.” 

She might have laughed at the naughty professor vibes he was giving her if she wasn’t already so fuckdrunk. She had missed this. She’d only gone without it for a week but she’d spent that week more pent up than she’d felt in years. How had sex with him so quickly become something her body craved, something it needed? Well now, that was a scary thought, and Darcy wanted Loki to fuck it right out of her head. 

“Yes! Yes, I missed this. Fuck! Loki you feel so fucking good!”

His hand came down again on the other cheek and Darcy keened at the way it lit up the nerves of her skin. The lingering sting only adding to the molten desire that pooled deep in her core. 

“So honest,” He crooned “even if you weren’t so free with your tongue, your body would tell me everything I need to know.” another slap rang out over her labored breathing “do you know what it’s telling me now, my sweet girl?” Darcy didn’t know anything other than if he stopped she was going to kill him. “The way you’re curling your toes, the way your greedy cunt is milking my cock, it’s telling me you’re so very close. Are you?” 

Darcy was a complete mess. Her whole body was humming, practically vibrating with the desire for release. She could feel wetness on her face from delirious tears and slickness on her cheek from where she’d drooled a little on her arm and it had smeared on her. Her skin felt hot where he spanked her and Darcy’s thighs felt like they might give out at any moment. God, she had missed this. “Yes!”

Loki was on her. Chest pressed against her back, breath hot on her neck. Darcy felt his arm snake around her, fingers honing in on her clit. “Then let go Darcy, I want to feel you tremble as you cum all over my cock.” 

Darcy was so fucking close, teetering on the edge of her release with every motion of his skilled fingers. When she felt his teeth press into the sensitive skin between her neck and shoulder she tumbled over that edge, falling into an inky abyss. She felt him pulse inside her, his skilled fingers stroking the slick flesh where her body took in his. Darcy could feel the moment Loki followed her over that edge, a breath later he dragged them both down onto the bed, bodies still intertwined. 

She laid there with him on her side, still panting lightly, and let her eyes close. Darcy felt his hands on her, languidly mapping the swell and dip of her curves. His robe had almost entirely come off, barely hanging on by one sleeve and the loose tie still knotted around her waist. Skilled hands undid the tie and slipped her arm free of the last sleeve before lobbing the robe somewhere, and Darcy felt his arm coil around her pulling her back into his chest. Again, it caught her off guard how cuddly he could be. It was so out of character given what a haughty loner he usually was. Everything about him from his sharp eyes to the way he exaggerated his angular figure with dark leather and gleaming metal seemed willfully tailored to say ‘back the hell off’ or ‘touch me and die’. Unbidden, the image of a terribly fierce dragon with a fuzzy teddybear clutched in its massive deadly claws popped into her head. She imagined that was either the safest or most utterly screwed teddybear ever. Nothing in the world to fear but it’s protector. The whole idea was so ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as spanking Loki, had she lost her fucking mind?...a bit. A tired laugh escaped Darcy’s lips. 

“Something amusing?” Loki muttered into her back. 

“Other than my accelerating descent into madness?” She couldn’t think of anything else at the moment. 

Loki hmm’d, slid the hand at her waist up between her breasts and stroked her collarbone with his thumb. It then occurred to Darcy just how sweaty she’d gotten. Loki’s response was similarly muffled against her skin. The feeling of his lips and breath raising the hair on the back of her neck “Other than that.”

“Well, I just got out of the damn bath, and now I probably need a shower.” Darcy wriggled a bit, mussing the already disheveled bedding even more. 

“You’re leaving?” Loki’s arm tightened for just a moment before loosening around her. 

Darcy twisted around to face him. Well, more like face his neck, which might have been better because she didn’t know how well she could handle Loki’s particularly penetrating (mind and soul, not pussy, that bridge had already been well and truly crossed) brand of eye contact. “Yeah, I gotta go check on Janey now that I can walk. Oh my go-“

Darcy realized she was in the rare position to thank the deity in question directly “Oh my Loki! I can walk! I know I’m stating the obvious here but you are fucking magical! I mean sure, definitely one of the top five most excruciating experiences of my life but WORTH IT!” She threw her arms around his neck and scooched up enough to plant a big ol’ smooch on his forehead. 

Loki’s head jolted slightly as he looked up at her questioningly “What? You said nothing.”

Of course she hadn’t! Darcy laughed, it was easier to appreciate the absurdity of it all now that it was over and she had a few orgasms to mellow her out “Dude, I was fucking petrified. I had zero way of knowing that’s what healing felt like. Definitely would not have been my first guess.” Darcy craned her neck slightly trying to lift herself up enough to look around “Clothes?”

Loki said something that sounded a lot like ‘dresser’ but it was muddled a bit in her cleavage. She looked over, and perked up when she saw she’d heard correctly.

“Ah perfect! Thank you, Loki.” another smooch on the head. Darcy thought momentarily that it might be a weird way to thank a very prickly god of lies and chaos, but it was how she always thanked Jane (and Dr. Banner that one time accidentally, after several days without sleep. Darcy was pretty sure she’d forever spooked the poor guy) she wasn’t sure when she’d started but it just seemed the natural thing to do with her mousy science sister. Besides, Loki didn’t seem to mind.

“I get that you operate a little differently, but there’s a point where things go from mischief to just mean, knowing what you were doing would have saved me a lot of grief. Again it’s a little hard to be mad because hey, foot!” She jut the foot in question up into the air wiggling her toes happily. She used the extra leverage of swinging her leg down to sit up, and stretched her arms over her head popping her back.

“Had I known you were in pain-“ Darcy noticed he was looking down as he spoke, more addressing the pillow than her.

Anyone else and she might have thought they looked like they felt bad. He looked more...thoughtful? It was hard to tell with him, Darcy could never really trust herself to read anything with him at face value. She spoke softer, not quite sure what the right thing to say was “How would you? We’ve been sexing for what, two months? Sorta talking for less than half that. I mean hell, you were raised side by side with Labrador Lightning for centuries...millennia?” Darcy hopped off the bed, and padded over to the dresser still talking “Honestly, I’m still unclear on how long you’ve existed. He couldn’t tell you were in pain. As far as I can tell no one could, not until it was too late.”

“You presume much.” Loki’s tone was icy. Apparently that was not the right thing to say. Whoops. 

Darcy began to dress still prattling on. His mood swing not quite dark enough to shut her up. She faced him directly as she pulled her skirt up over her hips. “I’m not alone. You thought I’d tell you I was in pain. Assumed I’d even have the ability to.”

“I was aware the process could be unpleasant.” She couldn’t see his face on account of the T-shirt she was yanking on over her head, but he sounded more chill. 

“Unpleasant?” She popped through the neck hole like a whack a mole and smiled at him, who knew he had a gift for understatement? “Maybe for your battle hardened damn near immortal self. I’m human. We’re kind of notoriously fragile.”

“Yet, somehow I still lost.” He said it with a sort of resentful mirth.

“Well, that bunch is the exception.” Darcy gestured vaguely at the ceiling assuming most of the avengers were still hanging out on the higher floors “Anyways, I ain’t mad. I make a point of trying to get over the little shit as quickly as humanly possible. Life is short.”

He lifted a brow at her “No time to hold grudges?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Well, that had come out colder than she’d meant it to. Darcy shook out her hair, clearing the thought from her head and proceeded to finger comb the tangled mass into something less feral wolf-woman looking. 

“Human lives may be short, but they’re no less complicated...aannnd I’m rambling.” Fully dressed and mostly normal looking she loped back over to him. Leaving him with three big thank you kisses one on each cheek, the final on his forehead “Anyway, you’re a lifesaver, thank you so much Loki. Toodles!”

Darcy waved and scampered out of his rooms. She was so excited for things to finally go back to normal...okay maybe not normal, but in the microcosm of Jane and her in the lab, and going about her day with two functioning feet, kind of normal. Which was so much better than nothing! Maybe even things with Loki could go back to the way they were pre-maiming herself, though he did seem a teeny tiny bit off. Darcy stopped in her tracks. 

She’d outed him. 

She’d totally outed him in front of everyone, and most likely robbed him of any dramatic reveal he’d had in store! To be fair, all of his drama seemed specifically designed to sew discord, but Darcy was fairly sure the true root of it was boredom. Well shit. He hadn’t seemed mad, then again he had a rep for bottling that shit up and hiding it to truly disastrous effect. Too late to worry about it now. Besides he seemed amused enough by her catastrophic confession. Darcy tried to shake that whole ordeal off, relegating it to the back of her mind. Better to focus on the good, on the now. The rest could wait. She strode on, her solitary shoe swinging in one hand as she walked to the elevators. She probably ought to put on a proper pair before heading to the labs.

~~~ 

Loki stared at the door, absently wiping the remnants of her ridiculous kiss from his forehead. Tempestuous little thing wasn’t she? She’d arrived listless and hunched, and left practically skipping out of his rooms, blowing through with all the grace and subtlety of a hurricane. Perhaps more of a refreshing torrential storm, any damage she had caused had safely bypassed him, and left him only with the rather desirable side effect of her back in his bed. Loki rolled over and felt something small jab his side. Upon examination he discovered a well used pencil with...were those teeth marks? Loki felt the corners of his mouth curl up into something disturbingly reminiscent of a smile. Disgusting.


	13. Darcy's Tour

It was a brand-spankin' (oh my, that brought up memories. A little too spicy for this early in the morning) new week, and Darcy had managed to get over six hours of sleep the night before with the comforting knowledge that sweet Jane was blessedly indifferent to the whole Loki situation. Darcy managed to exchange all of three or four sentences with her on the subject of Loki before both of them got distracted.

“Loki? Why?” Jane didn’t look up from her computer, but she did scrunch her face adorably before it quickly smoothed out again as she tilted her head to the side in thought. “Hmm, do you think he’ll be more amenable to explaining the mechanics of his teleportation now? I feel like I’ve made strides on the small scale tests it just does some rather unusual things to living cells, and I’m hesitant to send anything more complex than a houseplant through.”

“Cause he’s hot AF.” Duh. Not to mention Darcy could make a compelling case for sex god cause DAMN! “As far as amenable? I seriously doubt that given this thing with him is hardly a recent development, and he gets all murder facey whenever any of you ask him to explain magic with math.” Darcy paused catching up with the rest of what Jane said “Wait...houseplants? Jane, are you the reason my rosemary plant looks more like a baobab tree!?”

This time Jane scrunched her entire body. The already tiny scientist shrinking several inches defensively “It’s still alive.”

Darcy let out an exasperated sigh. This was partially on her for keeping the poor thing near the lab, but that was where she spent the majority of her time, which made things easier when it came to remembering to water stuff “It has a trunk! It’s like 87% trunk! Rosemary doesn’t do much for cooking if it’s only got nine leaves, why not use Tony’s wheatgrass?”

Jane pouted, as if any plant sacrifices were justified in the name of science. “I did!...it came back too sharp to work with.”

“Sharp?”

“Like tiny organic katanas.” Jane absently mimed something small and stabby, before catching herself and glaring at her. 

It was a habit she’d picked up sometime after she’d begun working with Darcy. It was nice to see she wasn’t the only one influenced by their friendship. She had picked up a pop tart addiction and sporadic insomnia, and Jane had started pantomiming. As more of a visual person, Darcy thought it was an improvement.

Darcy stretched, working some kinks out of her neck “...Right. Next time ask before you mutate anything I cook with, and if you mess with any of my cactus babies I will have vengeance.”

Jane finally tore her gaze away from the screen and met her eyes solemnly “10-4 plant mom, I hear your threat loud and clear.” Then she held out her empty mug with an unspoken request and puppy dog eyes.

Darcy took the mug, and Jane deflated a little when she traded it for a tall glass of ice water and an apple. “Goodnight boss lady, and don’t forget you owe me a rosemary.”

Jane took an obligatory bite of the apple before turning back to her screen. “Night, Darcy.”

~~~

Now all Darcy had to worry about was smoothing things over with all of the people that probably harbored fantasies of killing him, neat. She could do this, Darcy could totally do this! Probably. Hopefully...maybe. 

Darcy mulled over possibilities as she ground coffee beans. Unfortunately due to the sound of beans being pulverized and maybe some lack of situational awareness on her part she didn’t notice Natasha till she was standing directly in front of her. Darcy nearly spilled the beans...well she’d already done that, these were just more literal beans. 

Darcy straightened her glasses a bit “Natasha! You nearly gave me a heart attack.” 

The other woman simply stared back at her completely unphased. “I’m guessing you missed both of the ‘morning Darcy’s. You seemed a little lost in thought.”

“...You’re not wrong.” Darcy acknowledged. She carefully eyeballed her coffee grounds before adding hot water to the French press and setting it aside to brew for a moment “So I was thinking about how I should go about unfucking this whole debacle with everybody, I thought the ‘Lewis Grand Apology Tour’ sounded sorta catchy but...” She stared intently at the press, focusing on the steam condensing to droplets on the glass, rather than look at Natasha. “I’m probably going to regret saying this and I’m not gonna ask you to forgive my stupidity in advance, but I don’t want to apologize to you.” 

Natasha for her part simply shrugged. “You don’t need to, takes more than that to offend me. I may not understand the appeal, but you made a not entirely unreasonable point.”

Darcy waited for the courage to say what she’d been thinking to come, but no matter how she tried to force herself to look the spy in the eyes she couldn’t lift her gaze from her nervous hands. “I kinda want one though.” 

It was barely above a whisper but she knew Natasha had heard every word. It was stupid, unnecessary, and Darcy couldn’t help but wonder if it would change anything or if she was just making more problems. Her next words came out in a rush and Darcy couldn’t stand how whiny she sounded.

“An apology, Natasha you were right there! You were right there and there’s no way in hell you didn’t notice that I was in pain, that I was terrified! and you just...sat there! Like it was nothing. I have been running it through my head over and over trying to understand why, and the only answer I can come up with is that I’m just not worth helping. I’m not gonna lie, that shit stings.” Through with her little tirade, she hazarded a quick glance up at Natasha, who was being uncharacteristically expressive. 

“Right...now I might be approaching offended. That’s what you think?” Something about her tone, her posture forced Darcy to finally look at her properly. To see the disappointment in her eyes.

Darcy shifted her weight onto her heels, putting a tiny bit more distance between them. She tucked her chin, looking down at the brewing coffee instead, and began to slowly push the grounds to the bottom, shrugging as she did “It’s hard not to.”

“Darcy,” Natasha let out a heavy sigh. In her peripheral vision, Darcy could see her lift a hand to her temple as if to massage away the beginnings of a headache. “Contrary to popular belief, I am not psychic. All I could see is that you were crying with no readily obvious cause. Now crying isn’t terribly out of the ordinary for you, but it was pretty clear you weren’t watching a video of a baby elephant getting a prosthetic leg or something on your phone. So all I knew is that you were in Loki’s lap, crying and that he was the most likely cause. He was also in a prime position to use you as a hostage and human shield. So yes I just sat there, because I am only human. Regardless of how much I wanted to help, going to get it meant leaving you alone with him, and acting without thinking would most likely only put both of us at greater risk.” Natasha paused and when Darcy looked up it was like the spy was willing her to understand. “Yes, I sat there, in the hopes that my presence, my observation might be enough to deter him from doing something truly awful, and risking a witness. Darcy I don’t enjoy seeing people suffer, but I’d rather see you in pain than come back just to find you dead.”

Darcy looked up from the coffee feeling like a bag of assholes. “Oh. I didn’t think of that.”

The tension bled from Natasha as she looked at Darcy. “I gathered as much.”

“But calling yourself ‘only human’” Darcy poured herself a small mug of the fresh brew. She was fond of the taste, in moderation, unlike Jane and Clint who were all but addicted to surviving on a constant stream of caffeine. “is kinda like calling a reigning Olympic champion only human. Not technically wrong but massive understatement.”

There wasn’t a drop of humility in the small smile that curled Natasha’s lips “I’m human plus.” 

Darcy laughed, sloshing her coffee around a bit as she lifted it for a sip “You’re human triple plus extreme fast-acting relief.” 

“Call your doctor if you experience dizziness, numbness, or bleeding.” Darcy almost choked on her coffee, she had to admit Nat’s pharmaceutical commercial impression was spot on and had to set her coffee back down on the counter before she really spilled it.

“Well, now that we’ve established that I’m an asshole for immediately assuming the worst of you, I’m feeling that I may owe you that apology after all.” 

“I’d be satisfied with a cup of coffee, in one of the fancy travel mugs if possible.” If the look Natasha gave her was to be believed, which Darcy perhaps overly optimistically did, it seemed like she was forgiven. Not about to look a gift horse in the mouth Darcy rushed to grab her a cup. 

Unfortunately the nice travel mugs were on the top shelf and Darcy had to get a knee up on the counter to reach the darn things but the embarrassment of feeling like a hobbit in a house built for ents (which was weird considering Tony was, taller than her sure, but certainly not a skyscraper of a man) was worth knowing that a world-famous assassin was not mad at her. “Have both! I really am sorry Natasha. Now, would you like cream or sugar in that?” 

“Splash of cream, and don’t worry about it.”

Natasha took the cup graciously and nabbed a pear from the counter before gracefully exiting as silent as she came in. Darcy tried not to be unsettled by the fact that she was somehow able to walk silently in heels, and instead focus on the rather comforting realization that Natasha hadn’t in fact left her alone to endure excruciating pain, that she was actually trying to help.

~~~

Bruce heard the door open but didn’t bother looking up, the cadence of the approaching steps unmistakeable. He hadn’t realized when exactly Darcy had managed to wiggle her way into his day to day life. Had barely even noticed how accustomed he’d grown to her unsolicited assistance, up until she’d had to abandon him for a two week stretch helping Jane. During her absence he’d found himself hitting little snags again and again, workflow interrupted by all the things Darcy had taken to doing for him. She was also an astonishingly helpful sounding board for a political science major. It took more time than he cared to admit to notice how rarely he’d had to explain anything to her. Darcy was many things, but afraid to ask questions was not one of them. She regularly had to pester Jane and Tony for clarification, never abashed to admit when they’d lost her. Not him though, she’d taken to biochemistry and physiology like a duck to water.

An odd duck, but a helpful one. 

She even seemed to tone down her chattiness slightly for his benefit. Very slightly. In the corner of his eye he caught her approaching with a steaming mug. “I come baring tea and trepidation.” 

He swiveled on his chair, taking the opportunity to give his eyes a bit of a rest from all the screens. “I’d appreciate the first if you’re offering.” 

She handed him the mug, a bright yellow thing emblazoned with a mustachioed Salvador Dali llama. The fragrant steam wafted up filling his nose with the scent of jasmine tea. Her ‘apology tea’ because for reasons beyond his understanding she’d assigned flavors to various occasions. He remembered receiving jasmine tea for days after a particularly embarrassing kissing incident. He watched her shift her weight from foot to foot before speaking.

“So a girl’s gotta ask, are we still cool?” She stared down at her own mug, a cornflower blue affair featuring a robin motif. 

He sipped his tea, a little conflicted, jasmine was one of his favorites but knowing it almost always came with apologies and awkwardness never sat well with him. “Darcy, ‘cool’ has never been among my defining qualities, but if you’re asking if I’m upset with you, no.”

She finally relaxed enough to commit to one supporting leg, instead of endlessly shifting back-and-forth. “Agree to disagree on the ‘cool’ factor doc, you rock goodwill chic and bedhead like nobodies business.” She shot him a cheesy grin “So you’re not mad about the ‘questionable choices’ rant and Loki thing?”

“I can safely say I was never mad, momentarily surprised,” he shrugged one shoulder remembering her outburst “more called out than I expected to be, but not mad. I can’t say I think it’s a good idea but, we’ve all had our fair share of bad ideas. Me in particular.”

She cringed drawing her shoulders nearly up to her ears “Sorry about that.” 

Bruce ran a hand through his hair, likely fluffing the curly mass into an even more chaotic state “The truth is often the most effective weapon, I’d just advise using it with a bit more discretion in the future.” He thought about his reaction, how he’d felt discovering the nature of her relationship with Loki “It’s almost funny, the two of you, with lying being his favorite weapon. The pair of you make an unsettling sort of sense. Be careful Darcy, that’s all I ask. Thank you for the tea.” 

She laughed, momentarily setting down her mug so she wouldn’t spill it as she continued to shake with sporadic chuckles “Dude you make it sound like we’re together or something.” 

Wait. They weren’t?

“You’re not?”

Bruce tensed a bit. Well, that certainly raised some more questions, none of which bode well. 

The last of her laughter died out and she reached for her mug “Only in the biblical sense.” 

Bruce slowly sipped his tea, mulling over this latest development “Be careful.” 

That was met with another bark of laughter, and she hollered back at him as she bounced out of the lab “Don’t worry doc, I have no plans of making a demigod.”

That was not what he’d meant.

~~~

Darcy stared at the back of a blonde head unsure of how to proceed. Rogers didn’t seem like the sort to hold grudges without due cause, but Darcy didn’t know him well enough to know how over the line she’d stepped. Not on purpose, never on purpose, but she still couldn’t shake the look on his face. He’d adapted to living with almost a century’s time gap, fought against and side by side with aliens, and hunted down nutzo nazi occultists, but in the time that she’d known him she’d never seen him look that surprised. 

He’d heard her come in, there’s no way he could have missed it, so it seemed like whatever needed saying he was going to let her go first. “Is that a Steve on the couch?”

He glanced back at her, giving her a view of his face in profile. It didn’t look angry. “It is.”

He didn’t sound angry either, that was a good sign “Permission to join you?”

“Granted. That said, it is a communal couch, you don’t have to ask for permission.”

Darcy stepped lightly circling to the front of the couch. It was a conscious effort to not curl her fingers around the hem of her sweater and fidget “I kinda do though.” She met his eyes, meaning it “I 100% did not mean to call you out like that. I was all over the place, word vomit,” which she was doing again now, why was saying the right thing always so hard? “and then your hand wasn’t up, and inner Darcy was like ‘huh that’s weird’ and I didn’t even think, and I’m-“

“Darcy it’s okay.” Steve cut her off before she could really get going, bless him. “You um, what was it? You caught me slippin’?” They shared a companionable cringe at his attempt “All said and done, I don’t think it would even qualify as ‘questionable’ today, but things were different back then. I’ve been conditioned to be...” he let his head fall back onto the couch and stared at the ceiling, setting his jaw before he spoke again. “well, ashamed, for so long it’s a hard habit to break.” 

“Barnes?” It was out before she’d even finished forming the name in her mind. Where was a filter when she needed one!? 

He huffed out something halfway between a laugh and a sigh, then patted a spot next to him on the couch “Is it that obvious?”

Darcy took the offered spot but perched on the edge of the cushions, still not sure she really belonged there. “I’m not the best person to ask on that front. You just mention him sometimes, you look...” So full and so empty at the same time. Like someone had hollowed out all the love in him and filled the hole up with determination. A will to never stop fighting no matter what, no matter how long he’d been gone, because stopping meant giving up. Stopping would mean all that loss would count for nothing. The truth was, it hurt to look at Steve when the loss of Barnes was on his mind. In those moments, those glimpses she didn’t see Captain America, she saw a man fractured. “...different when you do.”

“Yeah.” The word was unsteady. She wasn’t sure if it was relief or pain or both. It felt wrong, too personal to see him like this. She hadn’t earned the right to see him so vulnerable, she was nobody, and in that one word he’d shown her a glimpse of his soul. 

“What was he like?” Trespassing. She was trespassing and she had no right. Darcy tried to backpedal “I mean, you don’t have to talk about it or anything, I didn’t mean to pry I was j-“

He nudged her, knocking her out of her verbal tailspin. He raised an arm nonverbally coaxing her to lean against his side. She wasn’t sure if it was for his benefit or hers. She hated the way his vulnerability was infectious, whether he needed comfort or was offering it she couldn’t refuse him. When his big hand came to rest gently on her shoulder the stinging frenetic feeling that she didn’t belong, the fear getting too close died a little. 

“He was a jerk.” Steve smiled, and Darcy swore she’d never heard the word ‘jerk’ spoken with so much affection.

“Yeah?” She didn’t know what else to say.

“Yeah,” and Steve smiled. He really truly smiled and it was beautiful “smart mouth, tough as nails, a great dancer. I don’t know that he enjoyed it, but his cooking wasn’t half bad.” 

The smile was infectious too. “He sounds like a swell fella.” Her transatlantic accent was ridiculous but she couldn’t imagine saying the old-timey slang any other way. 

Steve laughed and let his own accent thicken “Shit, a dame like you? The two of you woulda gotten on like a house on fire.” 

It was a hell of a compliment, and Darcy wasn’t sure she deserved it “You think so?”

He gave her a gentle shake. “Oh I’m sure of it.”

“I wish I could’ve met him.” and she did. This man, this happy Steve Rogers, was the result of precious memories of James Barnes. A man that could make Steve smile like that was a man well worth meeting.

He was too tall to rest his head on her shoulder so the big lug settled his head atop her’s “Me too Darce.” 

Imposter. 

Trespasser. 

She hadn’t done anything to earn this. He was being more than just nice, more than politely tolerating her, and Darcy didn’t understand why. She didn’t know how she could balance the scales. Nothing she could do would be enough. He was so close she could feel a little vibration where her elbow touched his side. “Hungry?” It was better than nothing. 

As if on cue an audible rumble came from his stomach and he smiled at her. “You cookin’?”

“Yep.” Darcy got up, she couldn’t save the world, but at the very least she could cook okay. 

“Then I’m starving.” 

“How do you feel about cookies? I’d like to make chicken but I’m pretty sure if the others get a whiff I’ll need about three to ensure nobody loses a finger.”

Steve laughed, then his face grew serious “Four.”

“Four?” Darcy contemplated how she was going to do this, feeding Avengers was serious business. “I’ll need to get them from the big fridge and they’ll probably all be frozen. So, in the meantime, cookies?”

He gave her a crooked smile, a little of the loss had crept back into his eyes, but it was still a thing of beauty. “Had one hell of a sweet tooth too. I swear Darcy, the two of you woulda bin thick as thieves.” 

He meant it and it made her heart ache, wishing she could be the kind of friend he deserved. “He sure taught you how to make a gal feel special. Pull a couple of sticks of butter out, wouldya?” 

“Yes ma’am.”

~~~

He smelled her before he saw her coming. The sweet scent of ginger and brown sugar cutting through all the metal and soldering smells he’d long since gone noseblind to. He loved Pepper to the stars and back but none of the snacks she brought him smelled like that. Butter and sugar and the disapproval of nutritionists the world over. He had to hand it to Lewis, an angel and devil all rolled into one. It didn’t hurt that she looked like a questionable decision he would have been glad to make once upon a time, and had a sense of humor as dirty as his own. 

She wrapped a fist against the doorframe since Jarvis had already taken the initiative to open the door for her. “Knock knock! You decent?”

He snorted, he wasn’t the same man he once was. When a question like that would have been a necessity. A necessity even the incomparable ms. Potts had occasionally forgotten, and caught him in more than a few compromising positions. “Never! come on in!” 

She shuffled in and Tony salivary glands took that as a sign to go into overdrive. “I come baring bribes.” Tony wondered if she could hear his stomach growl over the music. 

He eyed the covered dish “Ooo what’s the occasion?”

She did her little dance of shrugging and weight shifting, and he let the nervous tick go unacknowledged, she’d never called him out. “Well,” she popped her lips, and Tony noticed Jarvis subtly lower the volume of his music. “I kinda called out my landlord slash boss’s not quite boss, on an assortment of questionable sexual and life choices.”

“That!?” He turned to face her fully, and knew he was grinning like a maniac “That shit was the most entertaining thing I’ve enjoyed since I found out Rhodey has a paralyzing phobia of llamas.”

Darcy tilted her head to the side like a confused corgi. It was always a treat when he got to throw her for a loop “Since whatnow?”

His smile turned a little evil. “Yep, can’t stand ‘em, poor guy freezes up just seeing a photo of one. I had no idea till I proposed a trip to Peru and he got all shifty.”

“No kidding?” She tilted her head to the other side and the corgi resemblance was gone, replaced with a cheerful devil. “Well, in that case, I have a totally spontaneous gift for my favorite genius billionaire philanthropist.”

“What, I don’t qualify as playboy anymore?” Pouting wouldn’t get him more cookies, but she was one of the few left that he could count on to take it good-naturedly. 

She set the dish down carefully on one of the less cluttered sections of the table. “I thought it best to leave questionable sexual histories out of it.”

“I wholeheartedly disagree.” If he couldn’t enjoy a little smutty humor with her, who could he? 

As a retired manslut he felt a certain kinship with Lewis. He knew they shared some vices, not so much the chronic alcoholism, or gambling, or thoughtlessly building weapons he could never take back, but she knew how to have a fling. She knew how to have a lot of flings, and she didn’t even have the lure of being a billionaire. Course she had other assets, but how she’d manage to wrangle a god with nothing more than tits and wits was slightly concerning. She’d seduced him, of that there wasn’t a doubt in Tony’s mind. ”Kid, inquiring minds must know, how is he in bed?”

She gave him a thoughtful look before it transformed into a smile that had to be illegal. “Nearly worth the drama.” She let that hang in the air for a moment, with all its connotations, and Tony tried very hard not to visualize the connotations, many of them involving teeth. He needed to buy her a fucking turtleneck. She caught his look and laughed “Hell, I might even recommend finding out for yourself, he’s incredibly beautiful when she wants to be.”

Well shit, now he was imagining connotations involving not one but two attractive women. He’d understood the appeal, aesthetically at least, of Loki. In a tower full of downright excessively attractive people he brought a certain edge that made him stand out. Hell, if he’d ever been into bad boys or girls, instead of being the bad boy...he really shouldn’t be trying to imagine what exactly a lady Loki might look like. His heart and the arc reactor were not built for this. 

If she was going to torment him like this, as far as Tony was concerned, that gave him free reign to be the smarmiest bastard that ever smarmed. He dramatically gripped his chest as if struck “Oh sweet Jesus, are you trying to torture me? Either of you into a little voyeurism?” Tony wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

She shoved a cookie in his face. “Dirty old man.”

He couldn’t even be pretend-mad, it was a damn good cookie. “Future silver fox, and I’ll remind you that I’m younger than Loki by...how many centuries?”

Darcy groaned throwing her hands over her face. “Don’t think too hard about it.” A statement he had no doubt was on repeat in her head. 

“Oh, You’ve given me lots to think about. So Loki swings both ways huh?” Not exactly surprising, he just wondered why a man like that would swing towards Darcy. Aside from the obvious, but Loki didn’t seem the sort to be drawn in by looks alone. 

“My guess is all the ways,” and from the way she said it, it seemed like Darcy wasn’t the least bit concerned if he did. Not at all affected by the fact the man had a mythological reputation for fucking just about everything. Maybe that’s what had drawn Loki in. The girl knew how to keep things casual. “but the only relevant question is does Loki swing your way.” 

Tony choked on his second cookie. “I will not deny being a bit of an occasional thrill-seeker, but even I have my limits. You, my dear Lewis, are either fearless or have a bit of a death wish.”

“Well I’m not fearless.” Neither was he, and the casual admission struck a chord with him. She recovered quickly though, and if Tony hadn’t been familiar with just that sort of lapse he would have missed it entirely. “It has recently come to my attention that a prominent member of the United States military has a debilitating fear of llamas, and I am deeply concerned about the possible ramifications of this discovery.”

Tony could see she was back to her devilish self and risked another bite of his cookie. “Classified info Lewis, of the highest order. Loose lips sink ships!”

She hopped her way back to the door, turning back to throw him a jaunty salute “Aye aye Stark! Enjoy the ginger snaps! Also, I’ve got a few chickens in the oven if dinner appeals. Steve’s got dibs on the first one, and I wouldn’t get between Thor and the second one if I valued my safety, but the others are fair game.”

He threw his hands in the air “I’m getting eaten out of house and home!” and heard Darcy snort loudly, her lips were clamped up like she was trying to hold back laughter. “What’s with the face short stack?”

“I was trying really hard to hold back a joke about getting eaten out.” She added a flourish of finger guns and Tony just about lost it.

he was thankful he’d swallowed the bite before he could choke on it “certainly not on my account, I hope.”

With that she flounced out of the workshop yelling back at him “Anyone ever tell you you’re a bad influence?”

“you’d know!” 

~~~

Darcy and Steve were sitting shoulder to shoulder staring at the twin ovens with an intensity usually reserved for interrogations and bomb defusing. Well, he was. Steve looked at the timer again. Helping Darcy prepare the birds time had flown by, but waiting for them to cook minutes seemed to stretch into hours, and Steve was all out of cookies. They’d made three dozen and without thinking, he’d demolished the first dozen by the time she had scampered off with half of the last batch. He hadn’t meant to eat the rest. Darcy said he was free to, but thirty cookies seemed excessive even to him. That was, until he tasted them. Warm from the oven, crisp around the edges with just a bit of chew in the center and topped with crunchy coarse sugar, he’d barely noticed how he absently chipped away at the pile of cookies until he’d looked and found only two were left on the plate. He’d tried to save those last two cookies. He really had, right up until he’d been forced to fend off Clint and Thor with a damn wooden spoon just the have Natasha swoop in at the last minute and nab them to the three men’s collective dismay. He was beginning to see what Stark meant, the woman was a menace. 

When Darcy got back and heard what’d happened she’d given Steve a conciliatory pat on the back giggling the entire time. She showed him how to spatchcock a chicken. A procedure he’d seen Winnifred Barnes do at least a dozen times but never tried himself, usually being tasked with peeling vegetables instead. He could almost understand why she’d hesitated to let him do it, snapping the breastbone in two was a bit disconcerting, not to mention the price of meat back then. By the time he finished following her example Darcy’d already prepped the other birds. Her skill with a knife shouldn’t have come as a surprise, she spent the most time in the kitchen out of any of them. Still, seeing it first hand made his heart ache. Bucky had always enjoyed showing off his skill with a blade, more so when it wasn’t a matter of life or death. Steve had still ended up peeling veggies. Not because she’d asked him to, she hadn’t, he’d just felt a little useless sitting there like a lump while she bustled around. He had to take a step back when she’d shoved her hand under the raw skin, smearing herb butter between the meat and skin. ‘As unpleasant as this looks, it really does make it taste better. Also prevents the breast meat from getting too dry. Trust me.’ He’d had his doubts, but the smells wafting from the oven cleared those away quick.

He stared at the darkened glass of the oven door. “I thought you said they cook faster this way.” 

Darcy looked up from her phone “They do, greater surface to mass ratio, it’s only been fifteen minutes.”

Steve groaned. It seemed no matter how much he and the world might change there was one constant, his stomach would never be satisfied. He felt her nudge him “First one should be out in less than half an hour. Carrot?”

When the rest of the team found them Steve was halfway through his first chicken and worried they might have underestimated how many to make. No one got between Thor and the second bird. Except Jane, who fearlessly stole a drumstick before Thor practically swallowed the roast bird whole. After that frankly disturbing display things calmed down a bit and they all settled into what might generously be called a normal dinner. 

~~~

Loki was not surprised to discover ms. Lewis was a rather cheerful drunk. He had watched her hang back, glass of wine in hand, as the rest had descended on the meal like a pack of starving mongrels. The temptation to use the carving knife on his dinner mates instead of the fowl nearly boiled over into action when Barton had attempted to get between him and the last thigh. Ms. Lewis had caught the brewing exchange and glared at him knowingly, all the while slipping in to distract the archer long enough for him to claim the morsel. To maintain peace or to show him favor, Loki did not know, but the outcome was more agreeable than spilling blood all over the prepared meal. 

He’d watched her as she had perched on the armrest of the agent’s seat. “So I heard you’ve been stealing cookies.” 

“Well your informant misled you because I have not stolen a single cookie!” Clint groused, before finishing with a quieter admission of “today.” 

“Just because the attempt ended in failure doesn’t mean you didn’t try to.” Even with alcohol and the companionable atmosphere it was clear there was still tension between the two, but in her way ms. Lewis was trying to bridge the chasm. 

“Yeah well, why does Steve get a mountain of cookies anyway?”

“For being an exceptionally helpful and comely kitchen assistant.” She shot the captain an appreciative once over “Not to mention he’s Demonstrated the admirable restraint of waiting till after the dough is baked to eat it.” With that she’d hopped off the armrest and plucked a rather pathetic looking wing from the carnage.

For the first time Loki noticed she had never actually claimed a seat at the table, nor a plate for that matter. Instead she flitted around the periphery unwilling or unable to settle. She stripped what little meat there was from the bones and ambled over to the counter, disposing the bones and refilling her wineglass. 

She held the glass up high, swirling the contents appreciatively “This is the first time I’ve ever had this with non boxed wine.” 

“A fine meal to be sure,” Thor bellowed from behind the stripped remains of his carcass “well deserving of the finest accompanying imbibements!”

“You are just a sweetie pants you know that? That’s why you always get seconds.” Any irritation at her praise of Thor was quickly squashed by the realization that he he alone was free to indulge in the seconds that truly mattered. He caught Darcy’s gaze from across the tumult and maintained it as he licked the savory remnants of the meal from his fingertips. To which she promptly hiccuped and blushed all the way up to her ears, and Loki found himself entertained enough that even agent Barton’s resentful growl wasn’t enough to tarnish his amusement. 

“Aye, that and none would dare stop me.” To her credit, the Foster woman would and had on more than one occasion, stealing morsels with a deftness he would not have expected from a woman who was typically about as ambulatory as one of ms. Lewis’ plants. 

She stiffened with mock affront “Dude you know I would not hesitate to fork you up if I was hangry.”

“Indeed, let us all pray such a fate does not come to pass.” Thor shot back with similarly mock solemnity. It shouldn’t have been surprising the bounds with which Thor’s capacity for sarcasm had grown during his time in ms. Lewis’ companionship. 

He watched Romanoff set down her utensils and discreetly dab the corner of her mouth with a napkin, apparently the only one present with any semblance of table manners. She looked at ms. Lewis “Was that rosemary in there?” 

Ms. Lewis peered over the edge of her wineglass, hesitating momentarily “Genetically? Mostly.”

“You used THAT rosemary!?” Jane squawked from the other end of the table. 

Ms. Lewis nodded “What’s left of it.” Then noticed the look of horror on the astrophysicist face, quickly turning defensive “What!? That’s my only fresh rosemary it’s not like it’s radioactive, and if it is poisonous it’s incredibly slow acting, I nibbled on some like two days ago.”

“Darcy!” The others watched the exchange wavering between amusement and concern. Looking down at their plates, now littered with chicken bones, in a new light. 

“Don’t ‘Darcy!’ me. I needed to see if it still tasted the same,” she said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Then gestured at the assembled group “imagine if everyone here used safe and approved testing methods. Who would have stopped the Lokpocalypse?” 

Loki tensed the corners of his mouth fighting the temptation to react, she’d given it a name, how charming. He heard Tony snort and promptly begin coughing and sputtering having clearly inhaled his beverage rather than drank it. Most amusing of all is she was correct, had Rogers, Banner, and Stark not willingly become test subjects to to scientific pursuits of varying foolishness, he’d likely be subjugating their entire planet. At least until his arrival. The idea didn’t hold the same appeal it once had. Crushing Thor’s pet world, absolutely, but doing so would mean never discovering other less laborious ways of finding satisfaction. 

Dr. Foster gestured at Darcy with the leg bone she’d already stripped bare. Seemingly oblivious to the fact that any consequences of eating the mutated herb were well past unavoidable now. “Just because you can make a point doesn’t mean you’re right.” 

Darcy tilted her head as well as her nearly empty wineglass in tandem, teasing the doctor. “I feel like that’s kind of exactly what it means.”

Stark looked wide eyed back and forth between the two woman “What rosemary? Is there a specific Rosemary I should be concerned about!?”

“Ask Jane.” It was juvenile, but entirely within the sort of taunting he’d grown to expect from her. 

Dr. Foster threw her hands in the air embracing Darcy’s theatrics “I will get you a new one!” 

Satisfied she shot a look at Stark and mentioned “It still lives in the lab.” by way of explanation.

“That!? I thought that was just a really weird looking bonsai.” 

Darcy cackled “It is now.”

With a detachment unique to those who’d long since adapted to working with Stark and all that it entailed, Banner and Romanoff shared a quiet exchange at their end of the table “Do I want to know?”

Bruce studied the scraps on his plate before popping one in his mouth, unconcerned “Probably not.”

Seemingly bored of the topic of potentially poisoning the avengers with mutant plant life Darcy turned back to Thor “Wait, who do you pray to?” 

“My ancestors, the norms, Yggdrasil.” He watched her nod along curiously, likely wondering if the gods had gods, how far up the totem the practice of praying stretched. 

Her curiosity seemingly infectious Stark asked “What about you short stack, religious?”

“Organized religion?” She stuck her tongue out, it and her lips stained a slightly deeper red by all the wine “No. Everything else, let’s just say after meeting one mythological figure, my belief system got a lot more fluid. Then aliens happened...twice.” 

“So?” Barton prompted. 

“I cannot answer what I do not know.” 

“Very mysterious, aside from the literal spies at the table,” at that Stark took an extra moment to stare down the Widow, a clear history between them “you have a remarkable skill for collecting peoples dirty little secrets. It’s come to my attention that I know surprisingly little about you.” 

Ms. Lewis seemed to retreat a bit, drifting back to Foster and leaning against the back of her chair “Not much to know. I like cooking, hate cardio, have an affinity for tasers, and the patience of a saint.” 

The two spies looked at her, Romanoff speaking first “Last one is debatable.”

“The patience of a dog trainer.” Ms. Lewis amended. 

“Family?” Barton probed. 

Ms. Lewis smiled resting her head atop the petite doctor's “You’re looking at her!”

This time the captain spoke, the group collectively agreeing on a new target for there curiosity. “Parents?” 

His tone was friendly but Loki could see something in her eyes harden, almost imperceptibly “Oh, you mean those people I share some genetic material with? Yeah, not family, not for a while.”

Missing her meaning entirely Rogers expression turned pitying “Oh Darcy I had no idea-“

She waved her hand dismissively “They’re alive. Probably, I don’t keep in touch. They disowned me. Found out they kicked me off their insurance the same day I was released from the hospital.” The mood of the room shifted at that, but she continued with the same joking tone, seemingly oblivious “Blood may be thicker than water, but water is actually good for you, keeps you alive, blood is a bitch to clean up and a favorite beverage among soulless monsters.” 

Lewis curled her fingers into mock fangs and Loki ignored Stark’s pointed look at him. His vampire jibes had not gone unnoticed, but they weren’t so amusing now. 

She went on unphased. “But it’s okay because I know there is one person on this planet who would miss me when I’m gone, even if it does take her two or three days to notice my absence.” She planted an exaggerated kiss atop Dr. Foster's head, and when she looked up she finally noticed all humor had been drained from the gathering. “Jeezus what’s with your faces? Y’all are kinda killing my vibe.”

Dr. Foster caught her hand, anchoring her attention “Darcy, sweetie, I think you’re vibe is dying cause you’ve had just a teensy bit too much wine. Why don’t you steal a snack and lay down for a bit.”

He’d seen this sort of exchange between the two women several times before, but usually, it was Lewis noticing when her friend’s attention was drifting. Noticing all the subtle signals that she wanted to be elsewhere and providing her with an out. Finding her a polite means to exit whatever situation Foster was too shy or too awkward to simply leave on her own. Often so subtly that the others hardly noticed. Whatever Dr. Foster’s efforts lacked in subtlety she made up for in expedience. It was clear things were taking a turn for the worse and Dr. Foster wasted no time offering her friend a lifeline. 

Ms. Lewis finally set down the glass to wrap both arms around the petite woman. “Oh my god you are a genius, and I adore you. Your Oreos?”

Foster pat her arms with a forced cheeriness “Go nuts. Thor, could you take her?”

Loki had to give Thor small credit where it was due, in knowing better than to question his paramour’s judgement “Of course my love.”

Loki took no pleasure in watching Thor sweep Darcy up into his arms. Darcy clearly did, she laughed drunkenly slapping Thor’s bicep with clear delight “Damn. Damn boy he thicc! That’s a thicc ass boy!”

Loki watched Dr. Foster's face harden so abruptly that it silenced all others at the table. Meeting each of their eyes she spoke slowly forcing an unwavering authority into each word Loki hadn’t known she was capable of. “Right. For future reference we’re going to gloss over this little conversation and pretend it never happened. Understood?”

Barton, taken aback was the first to break the uneasy quiet. “Um, no.” 

Foster might have been more deserving of the title ‘Hawkeye’ in that moment as she pinned him with a look so fierce Loki actually saw the agent’s chest freeze as he stopped breathing. “And by ‘no’ I’m sure you meant was ‘why of course Dr. Foster I understand entirely, and I will never broach the subject again.’ Correct?” 

No one spoke as Dr. Foster stood and followed the same path Thor had taken to exit, and for the first time, Loki was forced to admit there was more to the woman than he first surmised. 

When she was out of view Stark blew out a heavy breath “She is surprisingly intimidating when she wants to be.”

Barton was not so collected “No, I’m serious what the hell was that? Tash?”

The redhead surveyed the remaining occupants seemingly weighing the potential consequences of divulging what information she had. Her gaze never settled on anyone instead she seemed to be staring at nothing as she spoke. “I only looked into her criminal record, seemed innocuous enough, I didn’t feel the need to dig further.” There was a frustration there, in the set of her jaw, of a spy who had somehow overlooked critical intelligence. 

Stark cut in, “criminal record?”

“Minor drug charges, typical college mischief.” Loki doubted the others noticed her irritation. As if admitting what she did know, felt more like an admission of how insufficient that knowledge was.

“Well, I think it’s pretty clear further digging is required.” Clint spoke and Loki eyed the carving knife with renewed interest. 

“Or we could respect her privacy-“ ironic how the words of reason could come from the same lips that contained a mindless rampaging rage monster. 

Stark gave the doctor a supremely patronizing pat on the shoulder. “Bruce, that’s adorable, welcome to the room, you are accompanied by two seasoned spies, a literal god of lies, and you think a polite ‘maybe we shouldn’t’ is going to stop them? Don’t let her fool you, Natasha has zero regard for personal boundaries. I know from experience.”

She rolled her eyes “That was one time.”

Stark’s voice went up an octave, indignant “It was a needle in my neck! One time is still way too many!”

For the first time since sitting down Loki spoke. Too many questions flurrying inside his head Loki struggled to settle on one. When his voice finally came, he already knew the answer, and he detested it. “Is it common practice on earth, disowning one’s child?”

Banner pulled his glasses off, uncomfortably rubbing the lenses with the hem of his shirt. “It’s not...uncommon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lesson: Never drink on an empty stomach. I don’t drink so I didn’t know that rule. Also, smaller person = less blood = higher blood alcohol level if you drink the same amount as your freaking 6’2” friend. Didn’t know that one either.  
Fun times! 
> 
> Never to be repeated. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who left kind comments and kudos! You're the reason I keep writing this ever-evolving adventure and it means a lot.


	14. Not always who we seem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning, I’m posting this all through my phone on account of a massive power outage. I typically write on my phone then proofread/edit on a computer. However, at the moment I don’t have that option so forgive me if this one is a bit more typo heavy than usual.

After a quick once over of the lab, Clint found Darcy sprawled on the floor with a half-eaten package of Oreos, her back leaning against the leg of the desk. She looked relaxed. Relaxed was an understatement, the girl was practically melting into the floor. He watched her survey the city skyline over the tips of her stripey socked feet. She was...quiet. It shouldn’t have been surprising, she was alone and it was nearly midnight, it would have been stranger for her to be her normal boisterous self. 

His normal, that was the only normal she’d ever shown him. He’d assumed that’s just who she always was. Which in hindsight was stupid, he knew better than to take anything at face value, but Darcy had always seemed open to a fault. The most civilian of the civilians he ever interacted with, over-sharer extraordinaire. Clint was fairly sure he knew the name and life story of every pet and plant she’d ever owned, the music she loved and the music she loved to hate, her goddamn opinion on everyone’s ‘Supersuits’ and boy did she have opinions. She wasn’t fearless, but she was stubborn as hell. She was childish right up until the moment she had someone who needed taking care of. Somehow she managed to be everywhere at once but rarely in the way. She was a good kid. Clint knew Darcy. 

At least he’d thought he did. Then she went and banged that psychotic bastard, and only now was he finding out that she’d been brought up on drug charges? Clint couldn’t help but wonder if the sedate woman sitting on the floor smudging Stark’s floor to ceiling windows with her socks was actually a stranger. 

He stepped closer, edging his way around the desk, and spotted an ornate looking bottle just a little ways away from the cookies. “So I guess you found Jane’s Oreos...and apparently more alcohol.”

She started, then glared at him. “I am allowed to get drunk occasionally so you can’t get mad at me.”

“Darcy I’m not mad at y-“

She cut him off with a growl and pointed accusingly at him with her foot, toes poking him in the shin. “Yes, you are. You’re mad.” She took a deep breath, dropping her foot back down onto the floor “You are allowed to be mad, I one hundred percent get it. Just go be all mad and broody somewhere else. I am happy drunk right now and if I get sad drunk then all of this will have been an appalling waste of very expensive alcohol. Additionally, this could be the only chance I will ever have to be rich drunk, don’t take that away from me.”

Clint refused to let her shoo him from the room and took his own spot on the floor sitting cross-legged. Now at eye level, he took a long look at the young woman lounging across from him.  
“I am mad,-“

She interrupted him with a pop of her lips and reached for another cookie. “Told ya.”

“I am not mad at you.”

She scoffed, pointing at him with the cookie. Part of him was tempted to snatch the damn thing, but now didn’t seem the time for that. “Bullshit good sir, if you could shoot arrows out of your eyeballs I’d be dead about thirty times over. Do you have any idea how scary you look when you’re pissed?” 

He did. 

A mean as hell looking mug went a long way when it came to interrogations. If he could get a perp pissing their pants in terror before he even started talking, the less he had to resort to more objectionable means of information extraction. Shame conflicted with frustration, but Darcy knew him! She’d seen that face, fearlessly driven him to the very brink of his patience and then laughed in his face. She might piss him the hell off sometimes, but he’d never hurt her. She had to know that.

“Veins! Popping out of your forehead and your neck! And arms, sweet jeezus your arms, if someone can guess your blood pressure by eye, that shit is concerning!” Clint watched her shove the cookie in her mouth and chew on it with a frankly comical degree of aggression. “And you’re telling me ‘oh no Darcy, that look totally doesn’t mean I despise you for fucking the man that robbed me of free will and used my knowledge and skills to hurt the very people I work to protect! No that’s just the look I get sometimes when my hemorrhoids are acting up.’”

Her impression of him might have been ridiculous, but she made a surprisingly valid point for someone who was clearly drunk off their ass. Aside from the hemorrhoids bit, jesus the mouth on her. “You’ve got a way with words Lewis, you know that?” 

She nodded and held out the package of Oreos, they weren’t freshly baked ginger snaps but it was better than nothing. “The bard trembles at my poetic eloquence.” 

He watched her take another sip from the ornate bottle and slump further into the floor till she rested flat on her back with her legs leaning against the window. The juxtaposition of her socked feet and worn leggings against the hard angles of the city skyline were as out of place as a political science major among the mad scientists of Avengers tower. How she’d managed to carve out a place for herself was a mystery, but she had, and they were all better for it. Hell, she’d made a halfway decent point about the decline in stabbings, even if he couldn’t stand the methods by which it was achieved. Clint drew in a long breath and let it out in a huff. 

“I came to apologize.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m about half a bottle of-” Clint watched Darcy squint struggling to read the loopy foreign text. ”...that is definitely not English, of whatever this magical stuff is too drunk to give a meaningful apology.” 

“I’m apologizing to you.”

Darcy just stared at him uncomprehending. He waited for it to click…a while, wondering how drunk she really was. Her bewildered stare combined with the silence was beginning to get awkward. 

“Darcy?” 

Her brows drew together. “Why?” 

Her utter confusion stung a bit, was it really such a shock that he’d want to apologize? He could be a dick sometimes, but surely he wasn’t that much of a dick? “Because my anger was misdirected, and clearly freaked you out more than I thought. I was...shocked that you would ever willfully put yourself in such a dangerous position. Losing my mind trying to figure out what the hell his angle was this time,” his jaw tightened “and if I’m really honest, pretty fucking furious that after all he’s done, all the suffering he’s caused, that bastard gets to have you. He should be suffering, he deserves to.” 

She was staring again. Quiet contemplative Darcy was downright unsettling. She blew out a raspberry and instantaneously broke the tension. “First of all, he does not ‘have’ me. I have me. Second, you’re right.” That was unexpected. “He’s a bad dude and if all was fair in the world he’d deserve a kick in the balls from every person whose life he ruined. Longest, weirdest line ever, can you imagine? Balder chilling in line next to Phil like ‘so what’d this goth theatre brat do to you?’ ‘Oh he murdered me, I got better though’ ‘No freaking way, me too! Twinsies!’” Clint tried hard to contain a snort of laughter, how could she be completely aware of who Loki was and what he was capable of yet still so recklessly irreverent. The girl was exhibiting Stark levels of snark without the suit to back it up! Was she completely out of her mind? and who the hell was Balder? 

Clint had no doubt if he let this ball get rolling she could drunkenly ramble for hours, and he’d probably find out. He interrupted her before she could “Darcy.” 

She paused and turned her head to fully meet his eyes. Under the drunken haze he could see frustration in her eyes, along with confusion, and something pleading he could not name.

“What does suffering cure?” She said it with a resigned familiarity, as if she’d asked herself that very question countless times before. Hawkeye had never been on the receiving end of an arrow, but the look that flashed in her eyes struck him with a force he was utterly unprepared for, lancing it’s way right through his heart. What had she endured to make her capable of looking like that? In that briefest moment, he glimpsed something profoundly broken, but in a blink of an eye, it was gone. 

“Like, who the hell decided that suffering is effective penis-“ she snorted “wait penne, uh pen-” 

Clint swore, this conversation was going to give him emotional whiplash “Penance?”

She confirmed his answer with a jovial ’ding ding!’ and accompanying finger guns. 

She looked at him then, as if willing him to understand. “It makes me feel better. Why should it hurt anybody? Him making me feel better?” It was a childish insular sort of logic, hard to reason with even with someone who wasn’t completely plastered. 

“Cause he gets to feel better too, and that pisses me off.”

She pouted, poking his knee. “You’re not that petty.”

A hollow laugh escaped him at that. “Oh, I am that petty.”

She sighed “Yeah...me too. Not on purpose, but it’s so freaking easy sometimes!”

Clearly it was not a proud admission, he watched her wilt a bit, legs sliding back down to the floor. Day to day Darcy seemed pretty uninhibited, but not sprawl on the floor limbs akimbo with Oreo crumbs on her shirt uninhibited. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you drunk.”

She gesticulated with one leg, her arms apparently too fatigued to peel off the smooth floor. “It is a rare and precious spectacle.”

“It is?” Thinking about it, she was right. Clint had never actually seen her drunk. That was precisely the sort of thing a man in his line of work ought to have noticed, but with all of Darcy’s constant chatter, a surprising amount of important information had just slipped under the radar. It was an interesting method of subterfuge and he wondered if she even knew she was doing it. 

“Yeah me and intoxicants have a colorful history.” Darcy rolled over on to her stomach propping herself up on her elbows.

“Right, I heard you were a drug dealer.”

Her eyes shot open than narrowed into angry slits aimed right at him, Clint watched as she shoved herself up into a sitting position then swayed slightly. Thinking better of any further movement she stilled. “Oi! Fuck you. I was so much more,” not quite the response he was expecting, but by now he really ought to be used to that “and I was talking about a literally colorful past involving tequila, some extremely tasteless Cinco de Mayo decorations, and my benevolent graffiti.” 

As fascinating as that sounded, she was dodging again. He tried to prompt her in the right direction “So much more?” 

“They were like 40’s era racism and sexism combined tasteless-What?” 

So much for that tactic, Clint eyed her meaningfully. “Ooooh, that is a slightly more interesting story. You see a drug dealer is just one link in a supply chain. I was the whole damn necklace baby.” 

“What?” his brain helpfully tacked on ‘the fuck!?’ at the end. 

Darcy sat up a little straighter preparing to tell her story. “Once upon a time I was queenpin of my own little empire spanning two and a half campuses and the occasional club.” She sat up as much as her inebriated state would allow, regally miming a crown and scepter.

He hadn’t been trained for this specifically, but Clint Barton had been trained. Which was the only reason his jaw wasn’t currently wiping the damn floor. “...I uh...what?”

She quirked her lips to the side before speaking “I don’t know if I should be offended or flattered by your look of disbelief.”

He didn’t know either “I’m just...how?”

Sure she was smart, more importantly, organized enough to deal with the unrelenting chaos of living with the Avengers. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had the capability to run such an operation, but actually doing it seemed absurd. She was…she was Darcy! 

Unperturbed by the look of utter confusion that was probably plastered all over his face, Darcy continued “As stupid as it sounds I just kinda fell into it… Actually, I imagine its the same for most people, like, who wakes up and decides ‘hey, I’m going to be a drug dealer’?” He watched her pause, mulling over her own rhetorical question “Probably like four weirdos in Florida.” Clint nearly snorted “So my degree required some science credits and I figured there is a good bit of overlap between psychology and political science. In a lot of ways, it’s just a matter of scale. Then I discovered the TA for neurochemistry was obscenely ridiculously angelically hot, so duh I had to take that class too.” She met his eyes fervently, trying to impress upon just how apparently hot this random dude was. Nothing against male beauty but Clint doubted he could ever have the same level of appreciation, and it hardly seemed like relevant information. 

“My little crush made it so easy to want to do well, to really try. Surprisingly I had a knack for it, and the TA thought I was pretty cute too. We got together and” She paused then, for a long moment staring at nothing before shaking her head and continuing her story “…some stuff happened, and I found out that a lot of the most popular drugs among college students, you know Adderall, party drugs ’n stuff, were relatively easy to synthesize, with the right supplies and equipment of course.”

How was she so casual? She was summarily shattering every preconception he’d had about her with all the gravitas of a Starbucks employee announcing someone’s order was ready. “You made drugs?”

She shrugged “Yeah...I guess I did, I was good at it. Do you have any idea what a rarity that is for me?” She met his eyes and the sudden sincerity of the question made his chest tighten. They were the words of someone who honestly believed they weren’t good at anything. Like this was the closest she’d ever come to having a skill she could be confident in. “and at the time rationalizing it was simple. I mean, people are going to buy drugs regardless, wasn’t it better that they buy them from me? Other people mix in crazy shit, detergents, baking soda, potentially deadly contaminants. Mine were as close to pharmaceutical-grade as you can get without actually going to a pharmacy, and on occasion cheaper than the legal version if whoever was buying didn’t have insurance. Shit, I was half tempted to start producing insulin before everything went to hell.”

Clint waited for her to go on, but she seemed far away. He prompted her again. “You got caught?”

She laughed “No, not really. It would have made more sense if I did, ya know? Cause and effect, crime and punishment, whatever. It was just random chance, maybe karmic justice, fuck I don’t even know. All I know is there was no clear cut ‘bad guy’, no convenient thing to pin the blame on, not even me! I mean, I blamed me anyway, because what else is there?” Whatever spark of sincerity she’d had was gone, and she said the last part like it was a joke. 

“Darcy-” he didn’t know what he was going to say to that, what he was supposed to say, thankfully she rescued him from trying to figure it out by cutting him off. 

She pulled her knees to her chest. Resting her chin lightly on one knee as she spoke. Her next words came out in a drunken tumble, hardly bothering to pause for breath “He was driving me home, I was half asleep in the passenger seat, and then” again she paused with that thousand-yard stare “…I don’t even know. I woke up in the hospital feeling like half the bones in my body were broken, it was closer to a third, still hurt like a bitch though, nurses telling me there was no one else in the vehicle when the EMTs got there, and that the police wanted to talk to me. They found some drugs, only enough to charge me with possession, and because my tests came back clean, I wasn’t using at that point, I got off with a slap on the wrist and a fine. In one day I found out the only person I’ve ever come close to falling in love with was gone, I now had a criminal record, lost all of my scholarships, class credits, and my family finally disowned me.”

She looked at her striped toe muffling her next words slightly against her knee “It’s like they’d just been waiting all this time for an adequate reason to dropkick me out of their lives. I really shouldn’t have been surprised, familial obligation only goes so far you know? A few days after that, when I was released from the hospital I found out they also kicked me off their insurance, just as an extra twist of the knife I guess.” She shrugged and rolled her eyes like ‘ey, what can you do?’ like abandoning a daughter at her most vulnerable was fucking acceptable behavior. Clint grit his teeth horrified, she said it like it was a goddamn punchline! The both of them had a dark sense of humor but this was a step too far. 

What bothered him most was her detachment, he’d personally watched this woman raise hell over a goddamn missing iPod. He remembered finding live gopher snakes in the locker room of the temporary New Mexico base after she and Jane had visited to reclaim equipment. Not dangerous, but certainly not nice. That should have been a clue. Clearly, she had no problem handling snakes. Clint nearly gagged at the direction his thoughts had taken. Darcy was a lot of things, but apathetic? Never. When questioned about them she’d looked Coulson dead in the eye and said ’Oh? Sure they’re not yours?’ before glaring down every agent in the room. God, she’d hated him back then, only after he’d bitched about what a pain it was to get the scaley little bastards out unharmed did she stop trying to set him on fire with her eyes. 

Her eyes were empty now “Just like that, all of the sudden I was alone. With a giant stack of student debt, medical fees, legal fines, and unable to even work because I could barely walk and oh, a criminal record. Shit show right?” she blew an exaggerated raspberry and shrugged “So it didn’t matter when the prescriptions ran out, because I could make something better.” 

She twirled her finger, drawing a little circle in the air like she’d already gotten bored with the subject. “So I spent eighteen months chemically numb. seven months relatively clean after that I left with Jane for New Mexico.”

She finally looked at him and tensed at his expression. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Darcy I had no idea.” At that, she waved her hand dismissively.

“Most people don’t, even right in the middle of it, nobody noticed. High functioning is just a nice way of saying ‘gee, it's awful convenient your symptoms don’t affect me!’ Unfortunately, you’ve just caught me in a very drunk chatty mood. Word vomit on aisle twelve!” She shouted for some imaginary cleaning crew. Maybe it was easier for her, to joke, but Clint couldn’t even summon a fake laugh for her benefit. How had he been so blind? “Shit happens, I’m not over it but I’ll get there eventually. If I live that long, which with the way things have been going feels like a bit of a toss-up.” She finally met his eyes, the humor in them jarringly discordant with the words she was saying “Dude I’ve had more near death experiences in the past year and a half than the rest of my life combined.” 

She had. They all had. Ever since Thor landed new chaos seemed to crop up everywhere. Shield had been in the business of keeping secrets for a long time, but they were…the whole damn world was not equipped for what happens when those secrets got too big to keep. Thinking about just how tangled up she, a civilian, a friend, had gotten in this mess was unpleasant. “Don’t do that.”

She quirked her brow at him confused. “…don’t do what? Yo bird brain I’ll have you know I’m not actively seeking out trouble. Y’all just got a gravitational pull for that shit, and I’m just livin’ in the splash zone.”

Clint couldn’t help but grit his teeth, jaw clenched so tight it was beginning to ache. “Don’t joke about dying.”

She bit back without hesitation “Don’t tell me what to do.” It sounded like something a stubborn teenager might say, but her tone was disquietingly cold. 

“Darcy I’m serious.” He tried to coax her into meeting his eyes.

Emotion flooded back into her face and her voice was suddenly sharp with irritation. “Well I refuse to be! Do you have any idea how unbearable my life would be if I took everything seriously all the time? I’d of stopped having a life way before I even met Jane or any of you.” 

“Darcy!” He hadn’t meant to snap, raising his voice was what had instigated this whole mess in the first place. He just couldn’t stand to hear this coming from her. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t Darcy.

She threw her hands up flippantly rolling her eyes “Right, sorry, not your problem.”

He all but barked his next words, sadness and frustration bursting through his self-control “Just wait a goddamn minute now! Not my problem!?" 

“Duh.”

“You dying is not my problem!?” Now he was shouting, fuck, he was supposed to be better than this.

She just shrugged “I mean maybe a lil’, at least one of you’d probably have to learn how to make a decent cup of coffee, or not, I bet Stark could whip up a robot for that in his sleep. No more home baked snacks, but there ain’t exactly a shortage of amazing bakeries around and it’s not like snack funds are an issue-“

“Is that what you think? Your only value here is coffee and snacks!?”

Her face was blank, but her eyes were beginning to grow watery. "What else is there?” her gaze slid to the side refusing to meet his eyes, but he could see vulnerability there. She brushed it off continuing to ramble. “Ah, Jane would need to find someone who can translate her notes but-“ 

“Darcy!”

She flinched, throwing her palms over her ears. “Gah! Why yelly!?”

Clint wrapped her fingers gently around her hands trying to pull them away “Darcy please, just look at me.”

“don’t wanna” Christ, she sounded like a toddler, a drunk miserable toddler. 

“Why not?”

She pulled her hands away from her ears and clasped his face, squishing his cheeks, and spoke as solemnly as a blackout drunk Darcy could. “Because my amazing drunken precognition powers are telling me that you are about to assassinate what’s left of my buzz.”

“Darcy you-“ her hands slid down his face covering his mouth. Palms sweaty and smelling vaguely of Oreos.

“Shush your face.”

Clint pried her hands away enough to speak “Would you just-“

“No!” She futilely tried to silence him again.

“Would you just fucking listen to me for twelve seconds!?” Fuck, he was better than this. Better than yelling at drunk girls on the verge of crying. At least he should have been, but this shit was hardly covered in Shield training. 

She yanked her hands free of his and threw them in the air. “Jeez! Fine yelly pants. Twelve...eleven...ten-

“You. Fucking. Matter.” 

He’d seen the tears collecting threatening to spill. How she’d stubbornly held back every drop with sheer willpower. It was now, not when she talked about how her life had fallen apart, not when she’d joked about fucking dying, no it was the very moment he’d tried to convey how important she was, to say the right thing, that the dam broke. A furious torrent rolled down her cheeks. He pulled her closer into his arms, not knowing what else to do. 

And she punched him. 

It was a pathetic punch sure, but Darcy rarely got truly violent, not unless she was terrified. It was blind panic that had made her taze Thor and it was that same animal terror that had her sobbing and batting her fists against him. Clint didn’t know what to do, would letting her go be worse, another abandonment? He couldn’t, he selfishly needed to fix this. He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up his apology. He’d fucked up by not listening, and tearing open old wounds he hadn’t meant to. Her hot tears soaked the fabric of his shirt and it felt like they burned him. Failure stinging like acid on his skin.

His voice came out raw. “Regardless of what you think, I can think of a lot of people who would give a shit if you died.” Her nails bit into his shoulders and it shocked him how much it hurt. He heard something that may have been ’shut up’ but it was nearly impossible to understand over her ragged sobs. She wasn’t trying to push him away anymore, instead holding on so tight her nails threatened to break the skin. Again, he didn’t know if it was better to pull away, didn’t know if by holding on he was just continuing to make things worse. “Not because of inconvenience, coffee or snacks, but because you are a fucking person. My friend and I lo-“

“Why?” The hurt, the accusation in that single syllable took him aback. She, someone who seemed to give her love so freely, someone driven to make the people around her happy, who’d given that fucking bastard a chance at human connection, couldn’t see how clearly deserving she was of love? 

Her arms dropped and Clint watched her shrink. Curling into herself as much as their position would allow. She’d gone from feral panic to rigor mortise in a matter of seconds, and it hurt to see her like this. This wasn’t his Darcy, his shit-talking, prank scheming, hulk screaming, glorious idiot of a friend. Without meaning to he’d ripped away her veneer and he was ill prepared for what he’d found underneath. 

“No, actually I don’t want to hear it. Love is conditional,” Clint gaped at her. Conditional? Fucking conditional!? Did she honestly believe the only reason they'd kept her around was for baked goods and coffee? She’d long since earned her place assisting Jane, and Bruce, and Tony, even Steve! She practically had a fucking sixth sense for when the guy needed modern cultural context, or was too proud or embarrassed to ask for help with tech. Yet here she was seemingly just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for them to jettison her from their lives the second she stopped trying to bribe them into liking her with fucking cookies!? “its a bullshit nothingburger of a word that people use regardless of whether they mean it or not. It is temporary, and I am so fucking sick of people promising more because they think that’s what they’re supposed to say.”

Every cold resigned word stoked the anger burning in his chest. “Supposed to say? Darcy when the hell have I adhered to what I am ‘supposed to say’ I care-“ 

“They’re just words.” What could he say to that? Clint dragged a hand through his already mussed hair massaging his temples. Even drunk she refused to lose an argument. Nothing he said would make her budge. Even worse, she was right. It didn’t take much introspection to remember all the times he’d told ‘curated truths’ to cover Shield’s ass. Outright lied to keep panicked civilians calm. Everyone lies. Insincerity was woven into the fabric of day to day life, a societal agreement, customer service smiles and little white lies. Her family had gone through the motions out of obligation, who knows how many years of meaningless ‘I love you’s before they’d tossed her like yesterday’s trash. No wonder she was so blasé in regards to Loki’s pathological deception. 

As gently as he could he pulled her against his chest, rubbing small circles into her back in what he hoped was a soothing manner. She grumbled wetly into his shirt. “What are you doing leggo.”

“No.”

She growled, and half heartedly head butted him in the chest. “Shove off.”

He smoothed her hair. “I won’t. I know I can’t convince you, and there’s no changing your mind till you’re ready to change it, and it pisses me off.”

“You are angry at me.” She was so still and quiet her words were nearly inaudible. 

He sighed resting his chin gently on top of her head “I’m angry at your brain, and whoever got in there and made you believe you don’t matter. I’m angry that this ain’t something I can fix by putting an arrow in it.”

“What can you fix by putting an arrow in it?” It was a diversion tactic, plain as day, but if she needed an out that badly he’d let her have it.

Clint noticed as her breathing slowly started to even out. “More than you’d think, less than I wish. Where the fuck are the Avengers for problems that can’t be fixed by hitting it really hard?”

She snorted “Lower on fury’s priorities apparently.”

She nudged him “Now seriously, let go or I will resort to biting.”

He released her, leaving one hand to rest on her shoulder and letting the other fall to his pockets “You good?”

She looked at him, puffy eyed and miserable as a cat in a bathtub and gave him a half hearted nod. 

He tapped his thumb and the slightly tinny audio from his cellphone speakers came right on cue “No you’re not. You’re not baby and it’s okay. You’re not good and it’s okay. You don’t need to be good all the time. It’s okay not to be good.” 

The corners of her lips turn up ever so slightly and she huffed at him “Seriously you’re using wholesome memes against me!? Did you have that fucking cued up?”

Finally, at the return of her spirit the tightness in Clint’s chest began to loosen. “If you don’t want me to use them against you stop sending them.”

He wasn’t sure if it was distraction or the fact that Thor could be a surprisingly stealthy fucker when he wanted to be, but he didn’t even notice the resident god of thunder until he spoke. “Darcy, my Jane is insisting I ensure you- what has happened?

Darcy pointed at sullenly at Clint “He made me cry.”

“I see,” Thor’s face darkened as he rose to his full height and flexed threateningly. If Clint didn’t know the guy he’d be putting a strategic distance of about ten meters between them. How could she not see how important she was? Thor clearly cherished her like a sister. “I believe chivalry demands I offer to beat him up for you.”

Clint clenched so hard he might have pulled a muscle in his damn ass. Good lord, he hoped that was not a sincere threat. “Please no.”

Drunk Darcy magnanimously lowered her accusatory finger. “If anyone’s beating up anyone for making me cry it’s gonna be me. Though I might ask you to hold ‘em down for me.” She turned back to Thor “May I ask a different favor?”

“Always” Thor smiled and the warmth in it was jarring so soon after his stormy threat. 

She motioned out the window, and then looked hopefully at Thor. “May I have a moonbow?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for you all. I hope you enjoyed it or cried (on the slight chance that anyone did, I wanna know. It would be very validating to know my sad shit resonated with someone even if it’s just a little), either way, thank you for reading, and thank you so much to all of you who left such lovely comments! You made my shriveled little heart feel things <3
> 
> I can’t promise I won’t curl up and fall off the face of the earth again, this pandemic has upended my life and even though it’s been months I’m still struggling to pull myself back together. That said, I’m still on the LokixDarcy train, I wanna read SMUT and if that means I have to be the one to write it then by gosh so be it!
> 
> ...even though this chapter is utterly devoid of nookie, knocking boots, and hanky panky. I’ll find my way back to pound town, I just got a little tangled up in some feels for a bit.


End file.
